The Catechism of Positive Religion Auguste Comte (Richard Congreve, trans.) (1858) ======================================================================== PROVENANCE NOTE (Tower of Babel staging): Comte's Catéchisme positiviste (1852) — positivism as the Religion of Humanity, in catechism form. Richard Congreve's 1858 translation. ======================================================================== THE CATECHISM POSITIVE RELIGION. TRANSLATED FBOM THE FBENGH OF (.\:vc^-;^UGUSTE^MTe/ BY RICHARD CONGREVE. *^LONDON: JOHN CHAPMAN, 8, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND. XDCC01.VUI. NAUWIRD COLLEGE LIBIUDY LOJTDOVJ BATILL A.irD BDWABD8, PBUTTIBS, OBAITDOB STBBEX. Jt f ->\ \ '' REPUBLIC OF THE WEST. ORDER AND PROGRESS. THB CATECHISM OF POSITIVISM; OB, Summarg fSa^osftton o» THE UNTVEESAJ:. EEIiiaiON. IN THIBTEBV ST8TBMATI0 OONVEBSATIONS BBTWBEV A WOMAH Ain> A PBIEST OF HUXAFITT. By AUGUSTE COMTE, AUTBoa or "tbb stbtbm or posititb philosoput/' iMD or ''TBB 8TSTBK OF PoaiTIVB POUTICB." Love as our principle, Order as onr Imsis, Progress as our end. CONTENTS. PAGB Advertisement vii Preface 1 Positivist Library 39 INTRODUCTION. GENERAL THEORY OF RELIGION. C0NVKB8ATIOH 1 46 n. *. 68 FIRST PART. EXPLANATION OP THE WORSHIP. CoNVBBfiATiON III. The Worship as a whole .... 82 ,, IV. Private Worship 118 „ V. Public Worship 139 SECOND PART. iEXPLANATION OP THE DOCTRINE. CONVBBSATION VI. The Doctrine as a whole . . . .160 ,, * VII. The order of the External World— Inoiganic Matter, Life . . . 201 ,, VIII. Man— first, as a Social, secondly, as a Moral Being 228 VI CONTENTS. THIRD PART. EXPLANATION OF THE REGIME, OB MODE OF UFE. PA6B GoNVEBSATiON IX. The lUgime as a wbole .... 270 „ X. Private Life 306 XI. Public Life 831 CONCLUSION. OENERAL HlfiTORT OF RELIGION. CoNVBBSATiON XII. Fetichism. Conservative Poly- theism, or Theocracy .... 368 „ Xlll. Intellectiial and Sociid Polytheism, Monotheism ^80 Tables A. System of Sociolatry or Social Worship . 429 f, B. Hierarchy of the Positive Sciences . . . 482 „ C. Positive Classkication of the internal Func- tions of the Brain - 430 D. Positivist Calendar 483 ADVERTISEMENT. The alterations in the arrangement of the Catechism have, in every case, the sanction of Auguste Oomte. See Politique Faaitvoe, voL iv. The Tables at the end of the volume are given from the latest edition of the Author. I have felt warranted by an extract from one of his letters in inserting the name of Shelley in the Calendar. In the Preface, p. 4, the formula alluded to is : Faire de Vord/re cmec du disordre, You/r tnatencds a/re disorder^ toUh them you must organize order. In the Positivist Library, Old Mortality should be substituted for Woodstock, PREFACE. '* In the name of the Past and of the Future, the servants of Humanity — ^both its philosophical and practical servants — come forward to claim as their due the general direction of this world. Their object is, to constitute at length a real Providence, in all departments — moral, intellectual, and material. Conseqiiently they exclude, once for all, from poli- tical supremacy, all the different servants of God — Catholic, Protestant, or Deist — as being at once behindhand and a cause of disturbance." With this uncompromising announcement, on Sunday, October 19th, 1851, in the Palais Cardinal, after a summary of ^ye hours, I ended my third course of Philosophical Lectures on the General History of Humanity. Since that memorable conclusion, the second volume of my System of Positive Politics has lately given a direct proof how entirely a social destination, such as that above indicated, is the appropriate destination of Positive Philosophy; for it has shown itself able to suggest the most syste- matic theory of moral and social order. We come forward then, avowedly, to deliver the Western world from an anarchical democracy, and B > 2 PREFACE. from a retrograde aristocracj. We come forward to* constitute, as far as practicable, a real sociocracy j one which shall be able to combine wisely, in fur- therance of the common regeneration, all the powers of man, each of course brought to bear according to its own nature. In fact we, Sociocrats, are as little democi-atical as we are aristocratical. In our eyes, these two opposite parties — ^the respectable portion of them, that is — ^represent, though on no theory, on the one hand, Solidarity, on the other, Continuity. These two ideas have hitherto been unfortunately antagonistic. Positivism removes this antagonism, and replaces it by a subordination of the one to the other, by showing Solidarity to be subordinate to Continuity. So we adopt both of these tendencies, in themselves, singly, incomplete and incoherent; and we rise above them both equally. Yet at the present time, we by no means condemn equally the two parties which represent them. During the whole of my philosophical and social career, a period of thirty years, I have ever felt a profound contempt for that which, under our different governments, bore the name of the Opposition ; 1 have felt a secret affinity for all constructive statesmen, of whatever order. Even those who would build with materials evidently worn-out — even them I never hesitated to prefer to the pure destructives, in a century in which a general rdconstruction is everywhere the chief want. Our official conservatives are behindhand, it is true. And yet, the mere revolutionist seems to me still more alien to the true spirit of the time ; for he i PREFACE. , 6 • continues blindly, in the middle %f the nineteenth century, the negative line of action which' could only suit the eighteenth. And he does not redeem the stagnation caused by his error by the generous aspirations after a universal renovation, which were the characteristic of his predecessors. » . • Hence it is that, although the popular sympathy is instinctively .with the revolutionary party, poli- tical power constantly passes into the hands of its opponents. For they, at least, recognise the fact, that the metaphysical doctrines are powerless to organize ; and recognising this, they seek elsewhere for principles of reconstruction. With the majority of them, their retrograde attitude is, at bottom, only provisionally adopted as the least of two evils. They adopt it to meet the anarchy which threatens them, not because they have really any theological convictions. AU our statesmen seem for the moment to belong to this school Yet we may be confident that all they derive from it is, the formulas which they find indispensable for the co-ordination of their empirical views. They wait for the more real and ' more stable connexion to spring from a new doc- trine of universal applicability. This may certainly be said with justice of the only temporal governor of real eminence of whom, up to the present time, our century can boast — I mean the noble Czar, who, w:hilst he gives the immense empire of Bussia all the progress compatible with its actual condition, preserves it by his energy and prudence from useless ferment. His sagacity, b2 4: PREFACE. however empirical, leads him to see that the West alone is charged with the glorious and difficult mission of laying the foundations of the regeneration of society. The East must wait, and without dis- turbance make the result its own, as each successive step shall be gained. I am even inclined to think that the Emperor Nicholas feels that this immense elaboration is reserved in especial for the great central nation of the Western world. Its spon- taneous action cannot but be attended with disorders ; but it is the only one which must never be inter- fered with, for its action is absolutely indispensable to the attainment of a solution applicable to all. The agitation that habitually prevails in all the rest of the West, though more difficult to restrain than that of the East, exercises in reality an almost equally injurious influence on the natural course of the final regeneration. It has a tendency, which can lead to no useful result, to put forward some other country as its principal seat, whereas the whole pf past history points to France. Our situation in the West is so wholly adverge to the simply revolutionary point of view, that we find the conservative party able to produce the maxims of most real value. I do not foi'get the memorable practical formula, the author of which, M. Caussidi^re, was a democrat fortunately without the ordinary literary training. Still it is among pure conservatives that the most profound political sentence of the nineteenth century had its birth — To destroy, you must replace. The author of this PREFACE. O ' admirable sentence, equally excellent in thought and expression, presents nothing remarkable in point of intellect. Louis Napoleon s claim- to notice is entirely dependent on a rare combination of the three practical qualitiea^-energy, prudence, and perseverance. But the constructive point of view has, at the present time, so direct a tendency to enlarge our conceptions, thatj given a fiaivourdble situation, it is capable of suggesting to an intellect of small depth a really profound principle. This principle is adopted and systematically developed by Positivism. Be this as it may, the retrograde nature of the worn-out ideas which our conservatives prpvisionally employ, disqualifies them absolutely for directing political action in the midst of the present anarchy. For that anarchy has its origin in the irremediable weakness of the old beliefs. Western Europe no longer submits its reason to the guidance of opinions which evidently admit of no demonstra- tions ; nay, which are radically illusory. For such is the character of all opinions of theological origin, whatever the theology be, be it even the purest Deism. All now recognise the fact, that the prac- tical activity of man must no longer waste itself on mutual hostilities, but must set itself peaceably to carry forward, in common, the work of developing the resources of the earth — man's residence. Still less can we persist in the state of intellectual and moral childhood in which, for the conduct of our life, we look to motives which are absurd and degrading. The nineteenth century must never b PREFACE. repeat the eighteenth, but it must never break off from it. It must continue the work of the eighteenth, and realize at length the noble object of its wishes, a religion resting on demonstration, and directing the pacific activity of man. Every tendency that is simply negative has, for some time, been set aside by the mere force of circum- stances. Of the philosophical schools, then, of the last century, the only ones which are really discre- dited are the illogical, inconsequent sects, whose predominance was necessanly very short. Those who with Voltaire and Rousseau aim at an incom- plete destruction of the older order — who think that they can destroy the altar and preserve the throne, or vice versd — are fallen without possibility of rising. They ruled, such was the destiny allotted them, the two generations which prepared and carried out the revolutionary explosion. But ever since reconstruction has been the order of the day, the attention of men has been more and more directed to the great and immortal school of Diderot and Hume. This is the school which will really give its stamp to the eighteenth century, connecting it with the seventeenth in the person of Fontenelle; with the nineteenth, in that of Condorcet. Equally emancipated, both in religion and in politics, those powerful thinkers necessarily tended towards a total and direct re-organi25ation of society. It mattera little that their idea of such re-organization was con- fused. All of them would now rally in support of the only doctrine which bases the future on the PREFACE. 7 past, and so lays a perfectly firm fouDdation for the regeneration of the West. This is the school from which I shall always consider it an honour to be immediately descended in a direct line through him who was indispensable as my precursor, the eminent Condorcet* On the other hand, I never expected anything but hindrances, intentional or not, from the broken remains of the superficial and immoral sects who trace their origin to Voltaire and Rousseau. Sprung from this great stock historically, I have never scrupled to connect with it whatever of real eminence our latest adversaries have produced, whether of the theological or metaphysical school. Hume is my principal precursor in philosophy, but with Hume I connect Kant as an accessory. Kant's fundamental conception was never really systema- - tized and developed but by Positivism. So, in political science, De Maistre was, in my judgment, the necessary complement of Condorcet.. At the very commencement of my career, I appropriated all » fbe essential principles of De Maistre, which now find no adequate^appreciation except in the Posi- tive school. [These7)wit^ and Gall, as my ^ precursors in scienceji^are the/six Vimmediate prede- cessors who will ever form the ^ connecting links between me and the three fathers of the system of modem philosophy — Bacon, Descartes, and Leibnitz. Carrying on this noble genealogy, the Middle Ages, through their intellectual exponents, St. Thomas ^ Aquinas, Boger Bacon, and Dante, place me in S PREFACE. direct subordination to the incomparable Aristotle, the eternal prince of true thinkers. On our progress upwards towards this regular fountain-head, we become deeply convinced that, since the adequate extension of Home's dominion, the more advanced populations are vainly seeking for an universal religion. The experience gained in this search has made it quite clear that no super- natural belief can satisfy this, the ultimate long- ing of humanity. Two incompatible Monotheisms equally aimed at this necessary characteristic of Universality, without which the hum&n race could never follow out its natural destiny ; but the efforts of the two in opposite directions resulted only in neutralizing each other, so that the attribute they claimed remained as the heritage of doctrines sus- ceptible of demonstration and admitting discussion. Five centuries have passed since Islamism renounced the conquest of the West, and Catholicism abandoned to its eternal rival even the tomb of its pretended founder. In vain did the two religions aspire to spread themselves over the whole territory coiA prised within the dominion of the Roman empire. That territory is divided with an almost equal divi- sion between the two irreconcilable Monotheisms. The East and the West, then, must put aside all theology and all metaphysics, and look elsewhere for a systematic basis on which to rest their intel- lectual and moral communion. This long-desired fusion of the two must afterwards gradually embrace the whole of our species ; but it can come from no PREFACE. ^ 9 other quarter but Positivism. It must, that is, have its origin in a doctrine whose characteristic is the constant combination of the real with the useful. Liong limited to bhe simplest phenomena, the theories of Positivism have, within the sphere of such phe- nomena, produced the only convictions which, at the present moment, can claim to be universal. But this, the 'Natural privilege of the methods adopted and the doctrines taugh^ by Positivism, cannot be for ever confin^ to the domain o/ mathe^ matics and physics. It found its first development in the sphere of material order ; it passed naturally thence to that of life ; from this it has lately ex- tended over that of man, whether viewed in society or as an individual Now that Positivism has attained this absolute fulness of development, there «is no longer any pretext for preserving, by artificial means, the theological spirit. This spirit is now, in modem Europe, as much a source of disttirbance as metaphysics were, of which it is the parent, both historically and dogmatically^ Besides, the moral ^d political degradation of its priesthood has long forbidden any hope of restraining, as was the case in the Middle Ages, the vices of the doctrine by the instinctive sagacity of its best interpreters. From henceforth the belief in Monotheism, whether • Christian or Mussulman, is left to its natural course of inherent decay. In this late stage of its existence, it deserves more and more the UD&bvourable judgment which, during the three centuries of its rise to power, it elicited from the 10 PREFACE. noblest philosophers and statesmen of the Komau world. They could at that time only judge the system by the doctrine ; and they felt no hesitation in rejecting^ as the enemy of the human race, a pro- visional religion which oonsidered perfection as con- sisting in an entire concentration upon heavenly objects. Our modem instinct condemns still more stroDgly a morality which proclaims that the bene- volent sentiments are foreign to our nature ; which so little understands the dignity of labour as to refer its origin to a Divine curse ; and which puts forward woman as the source of all eviL Tacitus and Trajan could not foresee that, during some centuries, the wisdom of the Chiistian priesthood, aided by a favourable situation, would be able so far to check the natural evils of such doctrines as to draw from them, provisionally, admirable results for society*t But now that the priesthood of the Western world has become hopelessly retrograde, the belief which it preaches, left to itself without check, has a ten- dency to give free scope to the immoral character which its anti-social nature inherently involves, {t deserved respectful treatment on the part of prudent conservatives, only so far as it was impossible to find a substitute for it in a better conception of the world and of man. Such a conception could not be formed without Positivism, and the rise of Positivism was necessarily slow. But this laborious initiation is now completed, and Positivism proceeds finally to eliminate Catholicism, as well as every other form of theology. It does so by virtue of the admirable PREFACE. 11 social maxim above quoted — ^it destroys them by replacing thjem. Positive religion, then, gives fiiU satisfaction to the intelligence of man, and to his activity. Im- pelled onwards by the character of reality which distinguishes it, it has embraced the region of sen- timent. This for the future forms its principal domain, and becomes the basis of its unity. We see no reason to fear, then, that any thinkers worthy of the name, whether theoretical or practical, can commit the mistake committed at the early period of Catholicism, and fail to see the superiority of a faith which is real and complete ; which is social not by any accident, but by its own inherent nature. For the rest, it is for the nascent priesthood of Positivism, and for all its true disciples, by their conduct as men and as citizens, to secure a due ap- preciation of its excellence. Even those who can- not be expected to form a judgment on its principles, may be led by experience to a favourable conclusion. A doctrine which shall be seen to develope all human virtue — ^personal, domestic, and civil — will soon gain the respect of all honest opponents, how- ever strong may be their preference for an absolute and egoistic, as opposed to a relative and altruistic, synthesis. . On such a competition must depend the issue of the struggle between Christianity and Positivism ; but such a competition is impossible till Positivism has been put into a shape which, by its condensa- tion, can enable it to become really popular. This 12 PREFACE. w. is the particular object of this small work, which stands apart from the genei'al series of my works. For it, I interrupt for some weeks my great religious construction, the first half only of which is as yet actually accomplished. I had thought that this valuable episode in my labours should be postponed till the entire completion of that immense work; but in January, 1851, I had written the Positive theory of human unity, and 1 felt suflSciently forward with my work to allow myself an interlude. As such, this present volume might follow the one in which the theory above mentioned forms the first and most important chapter. This hope grew on me as, step by step, I worked out that volume — the turning-point of the whole system. It became complete when I wrote the final pre^M^e of that volume. I realize the hope to-day, before I begin the construction of Dynami- cal Sociology, or in other words, of the Philosophy of History — ^the special subject of the third volume of my System of Positive FolUics, to be published next year. My resolution to publish this Catechism was due to my finding my principal conceptions more ripe than I had expected. It was greatly strengthened by the fortunate crisis which has lately set aside the Parlia- mentary regime and instituted a dictatorial republic Thesetwostepsarenecessaryasthepreviousconditions of any true regeneration. It is quite true that the dic- tatorship established by no means wears the character which is necessary to its full utility, as explained ,^ PREFACE. 1 3 in my course of Positive Lectures, delivered in 1847. The most prominent defect is, that it cannot permit the co-existence with itself of free and full exposi- tion, or even of discussion. And yet such liberty is absolutely iudispensable to any re-organization of the spiritual power ; not to say, that it is the only security which we can have against every form of retrograde tyranny. But under one form or another, before long, this necessary complement of the new order will be attained. Unfortunately its attain- ment seems to involve, as the preceding phases of our revolution have involved, one last violent crisis. Once attained, once established as a mere political experiment, it must lead us farther. Its proximate consequence will be the peaceful creation of the systematic triumvirate which is to give its form and expression to the temporal dictatorship, that dicta- torship which, in the course of lectures above alluded to, I set forth as the proper mode of government for the organic period of transition. We may have to wait for these two phases of our revolutionary experiment j but in the mean time, the actual form of dictatorial power already permits the direct pro- pagation of all thought that has a tendency to re- construction. For it has, at last, broken the power — a power which could lead to no good — of mere talkers. By so doing, as a natural consequence, it secures those who would really construct something the liberty of expounding their plans. The enjoy- ment of this liberty was naturally a strong induce- ment to me to direct the thoughts of women and 14 PREFACE. working men to the question of a thorough renova- tion of the social order. ^^ My present work, then, is an episode. It ciaims to be competent to furnish a systematic basis for the active propagation of Positivism. By so doing it necessarily forwards my principal construction, for it brings the new religion to bear on the classes which constitute its true social audience. The intel- lectual discipline instituted by Positive Philosophy rests on logical and scientific foundations of the utmost solidity ; but no solidity can secure its pre- valence, so antipathetic is its severe regime to minds trained as at present, unless it can gain the support of women and the proletary class. That supj)ort would lend it irresistible strength. The urgent need of it can only be soundly appreciated by these two great classes of society. Alien to all pretension to teaching, they alone can enforce on their systema- tic chiefe the fulfilment of the encyclopedic con- ditions demanded by their social office. Therefore I was bound not to shrink from introducing into the popular language philosophical terms which are absolutely indispensable; terms not created by Positivism, but which it has systematized in point of meaning, and the use of which it has developed. I mean, in particular, two pairs of essential value in expressing the distinctions of Positivism : — first, Static and Dynamic ; then, Objective and Subjective, Without these I could not sufficiently explain my views. Once properly define these terms, and secure their uniform use according to their defini- PHEFACE. 15 tion, then philosophical explanations become much easier by their j udicious employment. Otherwise they : are but a source of obscurity. I do not scruple, in this work, to consecrate these expressions to the use of Positive religion. They must pass by its agency into universal circulation, considering the high im- portance of their use from the intellectual and even the moral point of view. Thus was I led to compose what is, in the strictest sense, the Catechism of the Religion of Humanity ; and the first point was to examine, on rational prin- ciples, the form always adopted for such exposi- tions, the dialogue. I soon found in it a fresh in- stance of the happy instinct by which the practical sagacity of man often anticipates the conclusions of sound theory. Fresh from the work of constructing the Positive theory of human language, I felt at once that since expression must ever have the com- munication of thought, as its object, its natural form is the dialogue. Further, as combinations are in every case, phy- sical and still more logical, binary, the conversation of the dialogue admits of only two persons, under penalty of confusion if this rule is violated. The monologue is in reality only adequate for concep- tion. It limits itself to the giving expression to conceptions as they arise. It is as if one were thinking aloud, without reference to any hearer. Whereas, when language is used not merely to assist the investigations of the reason, but to communi- cate the results, then it requires a new process. It 16 PBEFACE. must be worked into a fresh shape, speoiallj adapted to the transfer of ideas from one person to another. Then, we must take into account the peculiar state of our listener, and foresee the modifications which the natural course of such a mode of exposition will demand. In a word, the simple statement must become a real conversation. Nor can its essen- tial conditions be met, imless you assume that the second person in the dialogue is throughout the same, and unless also it is clear who he is. ' But if you choose the person successfully, he may stand as a type, capable, in the ordinary use of the dialogue, of adequately representing every reader. This is necessary, as it is impossible to vary the mode of exposition to meet the exigencies of each individual, as may be done in actual conversation. It would follow from this that there must be an essential difference between the exposition which aims at being in the fullest sense didactic, and one which is simply logical In the latter, the thinker follows the course of his own thought freely, paying no attention to the natural conditions of communi- cation ; and, with a view to avoid the great labour of recasting one's thoughts, in general we limit our- selves to laying them before others just as we originally thought them. This rough method of exposition contributes largely to the scanty efficiency of most of our reading. The form of the dialogue, the proper form for all real communication, is re- served for the setting forth of such conceptions as are important and ripe enough to justify it. This % - # PREFACE. 17 is why, in all times, religious instruction is given in the form of conversation, and not of mere state- ment. This form is by no means a symptom of negligence, excusable in cases of secondaiy impor- tance. Quite the contrary. When the dialogue is rightly conducted, it is the only mode of exposition which is really adapted for teaching. It meets the wants ^f all orders of intelligence. But the new elaboration of our thought is necessarily a difficult process, and hence, for ordinary commu- nications, we are justified in not adopting it. It would be childish to aim at such perfection when the instruction to be conveyed was not of funda- mental importance. On the other hand, this throw- ing our thoughts into a fresh shape for the purposes of teaching is only practicable where doctrines are so thoroughly worked out that we can distinctly compare the different modes of expounding them as a whole, and easily foresee the objections to which they will naturally give rise. Were I bound in this place to point out all the general principles applicable to the art of commu- nication, I would dwell on the improvement it admits in regard to style. The great object of poets is to express feelings. They have always felt the superiority of verse over prose, froin the power which verse has to make the artificial language of man more beautiful by bringing it nearer to his natural language. Now the same reasons would equally apply to the commimication of thoughts, if we had to attach as much importance to such com- c i 18 PBJBFACE. munication. Compression of language, and the aid of imageiy, the essential characteristics of all real versification, would be as appropriate for perfecting the exposition of thought, as the exposition of feel- ing. This second improvement, however, for the purposes of teaching, must he still more of an ex- ception than the first, on the ground of the addi- tional labour it requires. It presup^ses even a greater maturity in regard to the conceptions to be expressed, not only in him who is to interpret them, but also in the audience. For the audience must also exert itself and at once fill up the gaps left by the conciseness of the poet. This is why several admirable poems are still only in prose. The imperfection of the form was at the time ex- cusable, as the range of ideas expressed was not one generally femiliar. An analogous motive deterred men from putting into verse any religious catechism. But the Positive faith is distinguished from others by its being real and spontaneous. These two cha- racteristics will enable it ultimately to attain this last perfection of style in its popular exposition. This will be, when it shall begin to be sufficiently spread to admit of great conciseness and the free use of imagery. Only provisionally then need we feel limited to the substitution of the dialogue for the monologue. In accordance with this theory as to the peculiar didactic form to be adopted, I was led not only to justify the custom which had hitherto prevailed, but even to improve upon it, so fsir as the second PREFACE. 19 person in the dialogue is concerned. £7 leaving the hearer absolutely vague, the dialogue, or con- versational method, also became necessarily vague, not to say illusory. Experience led to the use of the dialogue. After explaining the rational grounds on which its use rests, I soon felt that it would remain incomplete, and if incomplete, inadequate, so long as it was not clear who the second person was, at least to the author's mind. You must abso- lutely suppose yourself really in communication with some one, although that some one may be an ideal personage, or you will fail in deriving the full advantages of the form you adopt. So only can you institute a true conversation, and not a state- ment thrown into dialogue. As soon as I came to apply this clear principle, my instinct would naturally lead me to choose Madame Clotilde de Vaux. Whilst she lived, I had felt her angelic influence for one year only. She has now for more than six years, since her death, been associated with all my thoughts, and with all my feelings. Through her I have at length become for Humanity, in the strictest sense, a twofold organ, as may any one who has reaped the full advantages of woman's influence. My career had been that of Aristotle — ^I should have wanted energy for that of St. Paul, but for her. I had extracted sound philosophy from real science ; I was enabled by her to found on the basis of that philosophy the uni- versal religion. The perfect purity of our con- nexion, which circumstances made exceptional, and c2 20 PREFACE. even the admirable superiority of the angel who never received her due recognition — on these I need not dwell — ^they are already fully appreciated by the nobler order of minds. Four years ago I re- vealed the source of my inspiration, one beyond all compare, by the publication of my Discourse on the Si/stem of Positivism. At that time Madame de Vaux could only be judged by the intellectual and moral results of her inspiration, which that Vork brought home to all sympathetic hearts as to all synthetic minds. But last year, the three intro- ductory pieces, which will ever be the distinctive mark of the first volume of my System of Positive Politics, allowed every one to form a direct appre- ciation of her eminent natural superiority. Hence, when recently I published the second volume of the same treatise, I was already able openly to congra- tulate myself on the touching unanimity of feeling which undoubtedly animates both sexes towards the new Beatrice. These three antecedent publica- tions dispel at once all doubt as to my sainted hearer. Where there is the due preparation, the reader is sufficiently acquainted with her for our conversations to possess an interest of their own, one directly connected with the persons of the dialogue. Such a catechumen meets perfectly all the condi- tions of the dialogue. Superior as she was, Madame Clotilde de Vaux was yet so early taken from me as to render it impossible sufficiently to initiate her in Positivism, naturally the object of all her wishes and efforts. Even before death broke off finally PREFACE. 21 the work of affectionate, instruction, pain and grief had been very serioiB impeciiments. I was hardly able to sketch out to her whilst alive the systematic preparation which I now accomplish with her when dead My angelic disciple, then, brings with her nothing beyond the dispositions essential to a dis- ciple, dispositions to be found in most women, and even in many proletaries. Positivism has not yet reached them, but all I presuppose in them, as in her, who is my eternal companion, is a profound desire to know the religion which can overcome the modem anarchy, and a sincere veneration for the priest of that religion. I should even prefer for my readers those who instinctively fulfilled these two previous conditions, unchecked by any scholastic training. I have already explained in my Positive Politics the general idea of the institution of real guardian angels. Those who are familiar with that explana- tion are aware that the principal type amongst women becomes habitually inseparable - from the two others. This sweet connexion holds good even in our exceptional case. For my pure and immortal companion unites in her own person the subjective mother my second life presupposes, and the objective daughter who was destined for a time to ^dd her grace to my existence. Her invariable reserve after some time purified my affection and raised* it to the level of her own. From that time all I aspired to was an miion which should need no concealment, that of a legal adoption, the natural one, consider- 22 PREFACE. ing our disparity in age. When I publish our noble correspondence, mj last letter will give a clear proof of the holy project, the only one which, under our respective destinies, was compatible with repose and happiness. It is thus perfectly natural for me to use in this catechism the terms of father and daughter, the habitual language of religious instruction. More even than the priesthood of Catholicism, or of any other form of theology, the priesthood of Positivism requires in its priests complete maturity, if for no other reason, yet by virtue of the immense encyclo- pedic preparation which it prescribes. This was my reason for fixing on forty-two as the age at which the priests of Humanity should be consecrated. At that age the development of the body and the brain is complete, as is also the first social lifa These names then, father and daughter, become peculiarly appropriate* to the teacher and catechumen, and they are in conformity with the old etymology of the term#f)riest. By using them, I place myself naturally in the relation in which I should hare stood tb Madame de Yaux had it not been for our fatal catastrophe. Whilst however this concentration is necessary, and it is only the presiding angel that takes part directly in the holy conversation, it ought not to escape either the reader or myself that my two other patronesses take an appropriate though silent part in it. Elsewhere I have spoken 'of the subjective PREFACE. 23 influence of mj venerable mother^ of the objective action of my noble adopted daughter. In the present work they will always be present to my hearty when my intellect shall be duly feeling the impulse of the principal angeL These three angels are for the future inseparable, and inseparably con- nected with me ; so much so, that their constant co- operation has lately suggested to the eminent artist whom Positivism now claims, an idea of admirable beauty, by which a mere portrait becon^es a picture of profoimd meaning. A didactic conversation on this plan renders my ^^ own labour easier as well as that of the reader. For in many points such an exposition, meant for the public, does not widely differ from the explana- tions which I should have given in private to my sainted companion in answer to her questions, had our objective union lasted longer. This is clearly seen from my philosophical letter on Marriage. The very period of the year in which I am writing this, to me, pleasant work of elaboratiin, recalls with peculiar force the wishes she herself expressed, during that incomparable year, for a methodical initiation. All I have to do, then, is to carry myself back seven years. I can then conceive as actually spoken to a living object that which I must now develope subjectively, by placing myself in 1852 in the situation of 1845. To carry myself back in this way requires an effort ; but the effort is com- ^ pensated by the great advantage of being able to \ \ \ i 24 PREFACE. give a better idea of her angelic ascendancy over me. I know not how to convey a right im- pression of its character, except by combining two admirable verses, respectively meant for Beatrice and Laura — Quella che imparadisa la mia mente Ogni basso pensier dal cor m'avulse. I am late in bringing to its completion the initia- tion which my affection had led me to begin. But, on the other hand, I bring it more easily into con- formity with the sentiments which finally prevailed • towards her who will always be associated with me as at once my disciple and colleague. Her age has become fixed, by the general law of our subjective existence. My own, relatively to hers, increases daily, so as to sanction no other images but those drawn from the filial relation. The existence of both of us is thus brought into a more perfect continuity, and the harmony of my whole nature is also carried to a higtiisr perfection. At the same time then that I thus explain the unity of man as constituted by Positivism, I am developing and consolidating the fundamental connexion between my private and my public life. The philosophical influence of the angel who inspires me, becomes from this point of view as complete and as direct as it ever can be ; consequently none any longer contest it. I ven- ture then to hope, that to enable me to testify my just gratitude, all nobler minds will lend me due ^ aid in supplying the deficiency of which I am pro-* / PREFACE. 25 fdundly conscious, in the midst of my best dollar prayers — ^a consciousness such as that expressed by Dante towards his sweet patroness — Non fe raflfezion mia tanto profonda Che basti a render voi grazia per grazia. This expression of grateful feeling by the public must, as well as my own, embrace the two other guardian angels who form the complement of the presiding one. All three contribute to the influence of woman upon me. Far distant, alas ! is now the imposing memory of the perfect Catholicism whose sway my noble and tender mother obeyed. But distant though it be, it shall always make me assert, more than I did in my youth, that the constant cultivation of the feelings must take precedence of that of the intellect, and even of that of activity. On the other hand, I might be led, by my keen sense of the necessity of basing all real public virtue on the foundation of private excellence, to be too ex- clusiTe, and to undervalue the importance of civic morality, an importance inherent in it, and directly its own ; but I should soon correct my error by a ri^t estimation of the admirable sociability of my third patroness. In undertaking this work, which is an episode in my larger one, I have, then, the special assistance of all my three guardian angels. It is true, one alone actively participates, the other two co-operate silently; but this in no way di- miiuflhes the claim of those two to the veneration of «U my followers. 26 PBEFAOE. Looked at from a more general point of view, the form of teaching I have adopted will be seen to convey directly a strong impression of the cha- racter of the religion to be taught. Spontaneously it brings out the fundamental nature of the Positive system of life. The great aim of that system is to enforce a systematic discipline of all the powers of man, and it rests principally on the constant con- currence of feeling with reason in the regulation of our action. Now the present series of conversations always puts forward the heart aod the intellect as acting in concert under a religious impulse, in order to bring under the influence of morality the material power to which the world of action is nec«8earily md^ jected. In that world the woman and the priest are, as a fact, the two indispensable elements of the real moderating power, which must be both domestic and civic. This holy coalition in the interest of society I here organize, and in doing so I allow each of its constituents to proceed in conformity with its own nature. The heart states the questions; the i&* tellect answers them. Thus the very form of tluB Catechism points at once to the great central idea of Positivism : man thinking under the in^iration of woman, the object being to bring about a con- currence of synthesis with sympathy, in order to regularise the joint action of the two sexes. The adoption of this method for the new religions instruction shows that it is meant primarily for the sex in which affection predominates. This prefisr- ence is in accordance with the true spirit of the PREFACE. 27 final regime. It is equally clear that at is, in an especial manner, adapted to the need of the last period of the transitional state ; for in this last period every influence which shall be recognised by the normal state must be working with even greater strength, if with less regularity. It is for women, then, that this small work is especially meant; above aU, for those who have no literary education. Not but that the better proletaries will soon, as it appears to me, welcome it, and look on it as deciding the matter. Still women only can fully understand the preponderance that ought to be given to the habitual cultivation of the heart, borne down as it is by the coarse activity, both in speculation and action, which prevails in the modem Western world. It is only in the sanctuary of the female heart that, at the present day, we can find the noble submissive- ness of spirit required by a systematic regeneration. During the last four years the reason of the people has suflered profoundly from the unibrtunaie exer- cise of universal suffrage. It has received a bad bias, whereas it had previously been preserved from all constitutional sophisms, and from Parliamentary intrigues. The rich and the literary class had had a monopoly of them. A blind spirit of pride has been developed in our proletaries, and they have been led to think they could settle the highest social questions without any serious study. The southern populations of Western Europe have been much less tainted by this evil. The resistance of Catholicism has sheltered them against the meta- 28 PREFACE. physical influence of Protestantism or Deism. But reading negative books begins to spread the spirit even there. Turn where I will, it is only with women that I can find support. This is the conse- quence of their wholesome exclusion from political action. With their support, I can secure the free ascendancy of the principles which shall in the end qualify the proletaries to place their confidence aright on points of theory as well as on points of practice. The deep-seated intellectual anarchy of our time is another reason why Positive religion should appeal more particularly to the female sex. For that anarchy renders more necessary than ever the pre- dominance of feeling, as it is feeling alone which preserves Western society from a complete and irre- parable dissolution. Since the close of the Middle Ages, the influence of woman has been the spje, . though unacknowledged, check on the moral evils naturally resulting from a state of mental alienation^ the state to which the West has been more and more approximating — and in the West, especially its centre — France. This chronic state of unreason is now at its height, and since no maxim of social experience can resist the corrosive effects of discus- sion as actually conducted, it is feeling alone that maintains order in the West. And even feeling is seriously impaired already, so fatal has been the reaction on it of the sophisms of the intellect, which are always favourable to our personal instincts, in themselves naturally the stronger, x v > PREFACE. 2J> m Our true cerebral constitution off*s us three sympathetic tendencies. The first and last^^re already much weakened, the second nearly extinct^ in the majority of those who take an active part in the agitation of the Western world. Penetrate beyond the mere exterior of existing fomilies, and you find attachment has but little strength left, even in those relations of life which are its proper sphere. As for the general kindness, so loudly vaunted at present, it is far more an indication of hatred towards the rich, than of love for the poor. For modem philanthropy but too often gives ex- jpression to its pretended benevolence in forms that ^re more appropriate to passion or envy. But the third social instinct, which, as the immediate basis of all true discipline of man, ought to be the most habitual, has suffered even more than the two otters. The deteriomtion in this respect may be more easily seen in the rich and the educated classes ; but it reaches even th^ proletariate, except where a wise indifference keeps them from mixing in any political movement. Still, veneration can continue to exist in the midst of the wildest revolutionary aberrations. Indeed, it is their best natural corrective. I myself experienced this during the profoundly negative phasis which necessarily preceded my systematic development. At that time it was enthusiasm alone that kept me from a sophistical demoralization; though this enthusiasm laid me peculiarly open for a time to the seductions of a shallow and depraved 30 PREFAOE. juggler. 'Vfieneration, at the present day, is the de^^ve charactenstic by which we may distinguish in the ranks of the revolutionary party those who are susceptible of a real regeneration; a remark which is particularly applicable to the case of those Communists who are not educated. In the immense majority of those who are yet simply negative^ we may discover this valuable symptom. In the majority of their chiefe, we cannot. pThe existing state of anarchy everywhere gives a temporary predominance to bad natures. These men are abso- lutely unsusceptible of discipline. Yet, though few in number, they wield a vast influence, and they use that influence to infect with subversive ideas, and to ferment the heads of all who are without Arm convictions. There is no remedy for this plague of Western Europe, except the contempt of the populations they address, or the severity of the Governments. The doctrine which alone can secure the regular action of these two safeguards, can at the outset meet with no decided support, except from the feeling of women, soon to be aided by the intelligence of the proletariate. Unless we secured the due intervention of woman, the discipline of Positivism would never succeed in driving back into obscurity the pretended thinkers, who speak with decision on sociological questions, whilst igno- rant of arithmetic. For the people shares, in many respects, their worst &ults, and so is, as yet, inca- pable of seconding the new priesthood in its contest with these dangerous -talkers. At least I can, for PfiEFACE. 31 # r the moment; hope for no coUectiye assistance from any quarter, except from the proletaries, who have hitherto taken no part in our political discussions. They are not the less instinctively attached, as even women are, to the social end proclaimed hy the great revolution. To these two classes, then, women and proletaries, this Catechism appeals as ready £^. its acceptance, i * I have stated^e-general grounds which warrant my directing my attention chiefly to women. But, further, I have now for a long time thought, that it is on them that depends for its acceptance Anally the solution which the whole of past history points to as the right solution of our Western difficulties. In the first place, there would he an absurdity in expecting to end without them the most thorough of all human revolutions. In all previous revolu- tions they have had a large share. Were the repugnance they instinctively feel for oui* modem movement invincible, it would be quite enouigh to insure its fidlure. ' That repugnance is the real source of the fatal anomaly which places retrograde chiefs at the head of progressive populations — ^as though dulness and hypocrisy alone could furnish o£&cial security for the maintenance of order in the West. Till Positive religion has overcome this resistance on the part of women, it will never be able, in its treatment of the leading partisans of the different retrograde systems, to give free scope to its decided and just reprobation of their mental and moral inferiority. 32 PREFACE. If at the present daj men deny the existence in our nature of the disinterested affections, they lay themselves open to just suspicion. Their rejection on this point of the demonstrations of modem science^ must be owing to the radical imperfection of their own feelings. As they pursue no good, how- ever trifling, but from the hope of an infinite re- ward, or from the fear of an eternal punishment, they prove their heart to be as degraded as their intellect evidently is, considering the absurdity of the belief they hold. And yet the direction of Western Europe is still entrusted to such men. And it is so in consequence of the tacit adhesion of women. Such characters will be, and that wisely, a sure ground of exclusion from all the higher func- tions of society, when Positivism shall have duly trained on systematic principles the reason of the majority. Meanwhile, the religion of Humanity will soon strip the retrograde party of the august support wiich is given it, solely from a just horror of anarchy. In spite of objections which seem warranted by experience, women are well disposed to form a right estimate of the only doctrine which in the present day can thoroughly combine order with progress. Above all, they will recognise the fact that this final synthesis, while it comprehends every phase of our existence, yet gives a greater preponderance to feeling than was given by the provisional synthesis, which sacrificed to feeling the intellect and action of man. Positive Philosophy places morals at the PBEFACE. 33 summit of its encyclopedic construction, and so is in perfect agreement with the convictions of women. For morals, at once a science and aA art, are neces- sarily the most important and the most difficult branch of study. In them are summed up all the rest, and they rise above the rest. ' The senti- ; ments 6i tkxvslry i-eceive at length a full develop- ; naent, and are no longer confined by the conflicting ; tendencies of the prevalent theological belief. The ; system of Positive worship looks on woman as the ; moral providence of our species. In that system every true woman, in daily life, is considered the best representative of the real Great Being. The system of life, or regime^ which answers to the worship, constitutes, on systematic principles, the family as the normal basis of society. And by that constitution, it leads to the due prevalence in the fieunily of woman's influence, for in her is vested the supreme control, so &.r as that control can be ^nvate, of the education of alL On all these groimds. Positivism will soon be fully appreciated by women, once let them be adequately instructed in its more marked characteristics. Some might at first regret the loss of the chimerical hopes they had once cherished ; but even they would not be slow to see the moral superiority of the subjective immortality offered by Positivism. It is by its nature thoroughly altruistic, or unselfish ; and therefore, as I said, morally superior to the old ob- jective immortality, which could never clear itself of the egoistic, or selfish, character. The law of D 34 ^ PBBFAOE. eternal widowhood, the characteristic of marriage in the Poedtiyist sense, would be> enough, in this respect, to decifjA the comparison. From the revolution of Western Europe, women must no longer stand aloof. In order to secure their due incorporation into the movement, its lajst phase must be looked on as having for them a deep and special interest, in direct relation with the true object of women's existence. Clear off all superficial adjuncts, and four great classes constitute modem society. The four were destined to experience in succession the shock which the final regeneration of that society rendered in- evitable. The convulsion began in the last century with the intellectual element. The class which represented it rose in insurrection against the whole existing system based on the ideas of theology and war. The political explosion which was the natural result soon followed. It began with the middle classes, who had long been eager to take the place of the nobility. Throughout Europe the nobility resisted, and its resistance could only be overcome by calling in the French proletariate to support their new political chiefs. Thus led to mix in the great political struggle, the proletariate of Western Europe put forward its claim — a claim which there was no resisting, from its justice— to be incorporated into the system of modern society. It was put forward as soon as peace allowed the proletariate to make its wishes sufficiently clear. Still the revolutionary chain is incomplete, for it _^ PREFACE. , 35 does not embrace the most fundamental element of the system of human order rightly viewed. The revolution, in regard to women, i^st be the com- plement of the revolution which took in the prole- ' tariate, just as this last consolidated the revolution of the middle classes, sprung in its turn originally from the philosophical revolution. Not till this last step has been taken will our modem movement have really prepared all that is essential for the basis of the final regeneration. Till it takes in women, it can have no other result but to prolong the lamentable series of oscillations between retrogression and anarchy. But this, its final and decisive step to completion, follows as a result of the \^hole of the antecedent phases, more imturally than any one of those phases sprung from its predecessor. In particular, it is connected with the popular phase ; for the social incorporation of the proletariate is necessarily dependent on the due establishment of the principle that woman must be set free from the necessity of all labour away from her own home. Between the two questions there evidently exists the dosest mutual connexion ; for unless this exemption be universal, as the indis- pensable complement of the abolition of serfage, the family of the proletary would be essentially defec- tive in its constitution, since in it women would remain habitually exposed to the horrible alterna- tive of misery or prostitution. The best practical summary of the programme of modem order will soon be this indisputable prin- d2 f 36 PREFACE. ciple — man ought to support womarij in order that woman may be enabled to fulfil properly her holy social purpose. -My Catechism will, I hope, set in a clear light the close connexion of such a condition with the whole of the great movement of renova- tion, not merely in its moral, but in its mental, and even its material aspect. Influenced by the holy reaction of this revolution in the position of women, the revolution in that of the proletariate will soon clear itself of the subversive tendencies which have hitherto neutralized it. Woman's object is every- where the same, to secure the due supremacy of moral force; so she is led to visit with especial reprobation all collective violence. She is still less ready to accept the yoke of nunroers than that of wealth. Her silent social influence will soon modify the two remaining parts of the Western revo- lution; and the modifications, though not so directly traceable to it, will be equally valuable with those already mentioned. Her influence will facilitate the advent to political power of the industrial patriciate, and of the Positive priesthood; it will do so by leading both to set themselves clear once for all from the heterogeneous and ephemeral classes who were at the head of the transition whilst it was in its negative phase. So completed, so puri- fied, the revolution of Western Europe will proceed in a free and systematic course towards its peaceful termination, under the general direction of the true servants of Humanity. Their guidance will have an organic and progressive character which will PREFACE. 37 completely set aside all retrograde and anarchical parties. They will look on any one who persists in the Uieological or metaphysical state as .disqualified by wea^ess of the brain for government. -Hiave gone through the essential conditions, the fulfilment of which shows that this Catechism is fully adapted to discharge its most important office, whether in the present or the future. When Positive religion shall have gained sufficient exten- sion, this work will be ite best summary for con- stant use. For the present it must serve to pre- pare the way for the free adoption of Positivism. ^ It may stand as a general view of the subject, suitable for the propagation of the religion, whereas hitherto tlierl' was no systematic guidance ac- cessible. If we look to the form and the course of this episode in my great construction, still more if we view it as a whole, it expresses all the ^eat intel- lectual and moral attributes of the new faith. It will be felt that I have ^conBtantly kept in sight the due subordination of the reason of man to the feel- ing of woman. This ss necessary, in order that the h^brt may bring all the powers of the intellect to bear on the most difficult and important province of teaching. Ultimately it will react on another poiitt. It will secure respect for, and even the ex- tension to others of my own pertsonal worship, of the aagel from whom I derive at onee its chief fluggeatioois and th» best mode of expounding them, fiueh services will soon reader my sainted hearer 38 PKEFACE. dear to all who shall have undergone a true regene- ration. Henceforward her glorification is insepa- rable from mine ; it will constitute my most valued reward She is for all time incorporated into the true Supreme Being, of whom her tender image is allowed to be for me the best representative. In. each of my three daily prayers I adore both toge- ther, and I sum up all my wishes for personal per- fection in the admirable form by which the sub- limest of Mystics was led to prepare, in his own manner, the moral motto of Positivism (Live for others). Amen te plus qu^ me, nee me nisi propter te. AUGUSTE CoMTE, Founder of the Religion of Humanity. Paris, 25th Charlemagne 64, Sunday, 14th July, 1862. To increase the usefulness of this Catechism, I add to its prefiice an improved edition of the short catalogue of books which I published October 8th, 1851, with the view of guiding the more thoughtful minds among the people in their choice for con- stant use. No other priesthood could discharge this office. The Positive priesthood is enabled to do so by the encyclopedic character of its educa- tion and teaching, which thus becomes more easily appreciable. Both the intellect and the moral character suffer grievously at the present time from irregular reading. This fSact is sufficient to indicate the increasing value of this small work, conceived PBEPACE. 39 in a synthetical spirit. The collection named has not yet been formed, still each one can without difficulty even now collect in one shape or another its separate parts. Positivist Library for the Nineteenth Centv/ry, 150 Volumes. I. POETRY. (Thirty Volumes.) The Iliad and the Odysseyi in one Yolnmei without notes. iBschylus, The King (Edipus of Sophocles, and Aristophanes, in one Tolume, without notes. Pindar, Theocritus, Daphnis and Ohloe, in one volume, with- out notes. Plautus and Terence, in one volume, without notes. Virgil, selections from Horace, Lucan, in one volume, without note^. Ovid, TibuUus, Juvenal. Fabliaux of the Middle Ages, by Legrand D'Aussy. Dante, Ariosto, Tasso, Petrarca, in one volume, in Italian. Select Plays of Metastasio and Alfieri, also in Italian. I Promessi Sposi, by Manzoni, in one volume, in Italian. Don Quixote, and the Novels of Cervantes, in Spanish, in one volume. Select Spanish Dramas, a collection edited by Don Jos6 Segundo Florez, in one volume, in Spanish. The Bomancero Espanol, a selection, with the poem of the Cid, one volume, in Spanish. Select Plays of P. Comeille. Molidre. Select PUiys of Bacine and Volture, in one volume. La Fontaine's Fables, with some from Florian and Lamotte. Gil Bias, by Lesage. 40 PREFACE. The FrinoeBB of Oleres, Paul and Virginia, and the Last of the Abencenages, to be collected in one volume. The Martyrs, by Chateanbriand. Select Flays of Shakspeare. Milton — Faradise Lost and Lyrical Foems. Robinson Gnisoe and the Vicar of Wakefield, in one rolnme. Tom Jones, by Fielding, in English, or translated by Gb^ron. The seven masterpieces of Walter Scott — Ivanhoe, Qnentin Dnrward, the Fair Maid of Ferth, the Legend of Montrose, Woodstock, the Heart of Midlothian, the Antiquary. Select works of Byron, Don Juan in particolar to be suppressed. Select works of GK>ethe. The AxahiAn Nights. n. SCIENCE. (Thirty Volumes.) Condorcet's Arithmetic, Algebra and G^eometry of CUirant, the Trigonometry of Lacroix or Legendre, the three to form one volume. The Analytical GFeometry of Auguste Comte, preceded by the Geometry of Descartes. Statics, by Foinsot, with all his Memoirs on Mechanics. The Course of Analysis given by Navier at the Ecole Folytech- nique, followed by the Essay of Camot on Equilibrium and Motion. The Theory of Functions, by Lagrange. The Popular Astronomy of Auguste Oomte, followed by the Worlds of Fontenelle. Fischer's Mechanical Physics, translated and annotated by Biot. Alphabetical Manual of Practical Philosophy, by John Carr. The Chemistry of Lavoisier. Chemical Statics, by Berthollet. Elements of Chemistry, by James Ghraham. Manual of Anatomy, by Meckel. The General Anatomy of Bichat, preceded by his Treatise on Life and Death. PBEFAOB. 41 The first volume of Blainville on the Organization of Animals. The Physiology of Blcherand, with Notes by B^iard, and the Physiology of Glande Bernard. Systematic Essay on Biology, by Segond, and his Treatise on General Anatomy. NouTeaux ^l^ments de la Science de PHomme, Barthez (2nd edition, 1806). Zoological Philosophy, by Lamarck. Dnmerirs Natural History. Bnffon — Discourses on the Nature of Animals. The Art of Prolonging Human Life, by Hufeland, preceded by Hippocrates on Air, Water, and Situation, and fol- lowed by Comaro's book on Sobriety, to form one volume. The History of Chronic Inflammation, by Broussais, preceded by his Propositions de M^decine. The liloges des Savans, by Fontenelle and Oondoicet. in. HISTORY. (Sixty Volumes.) The Abr^g^ de GF6ographie IJniverselle, by Malte Brun. Bienzi — (Geographical Dictionary. Cook's Voyages, and those of Chardln. Ifignet — ^History of the French B«volu^on. Heeren — Manual of Modem History. Voltaire— Sificle de Louis XIV. Memoirs of Madame de Motteville. The Political Testament of Bichelieu, and the LaU of Cromwell, to form one volume. Hemolrs of Benv^uto Cellini, in Italiaa. Memoirs of Commines. The Abr^g^ de THistoire de Fiance, by Bossuet. The Bevolutions of Italy, by Denina. The History of Spain, by Ascargorta. Bob^rtson — Charles V. Hume — History of Enghind. 4:2 PBEFAGE. Hallam — ^Middle Ages. Pleury — Ecclesiastical History. Gibbon — Decline and Fall. Manual of Ancient History — Heeren. Tacitus. Herodotus, Thucydides, in one Tolume. Plutarch's Lives. CsBsar's Commentaries, and Arrian*s Alexander, in one volume. The Voyage of Anachands, by Barthelemy. The History of Art among the Ancients, by Winckelmann. Treatise on Fainting, by Leonairdo da Vinci, in Italian. Memoirs on Music, by Qx^try. IV. SYNTHESIS. (Thirty Volumes.) Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, in one volume. The Bible. The Ooran. The City of God, by St. Augustin. The Confessions of St. Augustin, followed by St. Bernard on the Love of God. The Imitation of Jesus Christ, the original, and the French translation by Comeille. The Catechism of Montpellier, preceded by the Exposition of Catholic Doctrine, by Bossuet, and followed by St. AuguB- tin's Commentary on the Sermon on the Mount. History of Protestant Variations, by Bossuet. Descartes — Discourse on Method, preceded by Bacon's Novum Organum, and followed by the Interpretation of Nature, by Diderot. Pascal's Thoughts, followed by those of Vauvenargues, and Madame de Lambert's Conseils d'une Mdre. Bossuet's Discourse on Universal History, followed by Condor- cet's Esquisse Historique. De Maistre's Treatise on the Pope, preceded by Bossuet's Politique Sacr^e. PREFACE. 43 Hume's Philosophical Essays, preceded by the two Dissertations on the Deaf and the Blind, by Diderot, and followed by Adam Smith's Essay on the History of Astronomy. Theory of the Beautiful, by Barthez, preceded by the Essay on the Beautiful, by Diderot. Oabanis — Les Eapports du Physique et du Moral de 1' Homme. Treatise on the Functions of the Brain, by Gall, preceded by GJeorges Leroy's Letters on Animals. Broussais — Treatise on Irritation and Madness. The Positive Philosophy of Anguste Comte (condensed by Miss Martineau), his Positive Politics, and Positivist Catechism. Paris, 5th Dante 66 (Tuesday, 18th July, 1854). INTRODUCTION. GENERAL THEORY OF RELIGION, CONVERSATION I. The Woman. — I have often asked myself this ques- tion, my dear &ther. Your doctrine rejects every form of belief in a supernatural power; why do you persist in calling it a Religion ? But on reflec- tion the fact struck me, that the term, Religion, is, in common use, given to many systems, not merely different, but even incompatible the one with the other. Each of these systems claims exclusive possession of it ; yet no one of them has at any time been able, if you take the whole race into account, to I'eckon up as many adherents as opponents. I was hence led to think that this fundamental term must have some one general acceptation, radically independent of every special form of faith. Once ar- rived at this point, I felt convinced that it was on this essential meaning of the term that you fixed, and that you were justified therefore in applying it to Positivism, in spite of the greater contrast that exists between it and the previous doctrines, which 46 INTBODUCTION. openly avow that their mutual points of difference are quite as serious as the points in which they agree. Still, as this explanation seems to me yet far from clear, would you begin your exposition by explaining at once and in precise language the ra- . dical sense of the word Edigion? The Prie^. — Looking to the etymology of the term, my dear daughter, we find as a fact that it has no necessary connexion with any opinions whatever that may be considered useful for attain- ing the end it sets before us. In itself it expresses the state of perfect unity which is the distinctive mark of man's existence, both as an individual and in society, when all the constituent parts of his nature, moral as well as physical, are made habitu- ally to converge towards one common purpose. Thus the term religion would be equivalent to synthesis, were it not that this last, not by force of its composition, but by nearly universal custom, is now limited entirely to the domain of the intel- lect, whilst the other embraces all the attributes of man. Religion, then, consists in regulating each one's individual nature, and forms the rallying [mint for all the separate individuals. These are but two distinct forms of one and the same prpblem , for every man, at different periods of his life, differs from himself not less than at any one time he differs from those around him ; so that for the in- dividual, as for the community, the laws of perma- nence and participation are identical. The full attainment of this harmony, for the in- IHTRODUCTIOK. 47 di-vidual or for the society, is never possible, so complicated is our existence. This definition of religion, consequently, is meant to convey an idea of the unchanging type towards which, by a com- bination of all our exertions, we gradually approxi- mate. Man's happiness and merit consist in draw- ing as near as possible to this unity. Its gradual development is the best measure of our real pro- gress towards perfection, as individuals, or as so- cieties. As the various attributes of man come into fi-eer play, it becomes more important that they should habitually act in concert. But, at the same time, this would become more difficult, were it not that their evolution has of itself a tendency to make lis more susceptible of discipline. This I will ex- plain soon. Now, as a high value was always set on this synthetical state, attention was naturally concen- trated on the means of attaining it. Thus men were led to take the means for the end, and to transfer the name of religion to any of the systems of opinions which it represented. At first sight, these numerous forms of belief appear irreconcilable '^^^'^y® Positivism, however, can bring them into an ' ' ^^ sential agreement, by viewing each in referenc* /^ ^ the purpose it answered in its own time ai ^^''^ country. There is, at bottom, but one religion, & ^^hers, once universal and final. To it all the partial an *'^^®**" provisional religions more and more pointed, so fg*^* •*•* as the whole state of things at the time allowec ^"^^^7 The '-arious religions of man have been empirica?^ ®® ^ '^ body. 48 IXTBODUOnON. We Bubstitate for them a systematic religion, deve- loping the tmity of man ; for it has at length be- come possible to constitute such a religion imme- ' diately and completely, by combining the results of our previous unsystematic state. As a natural con- sequence, then, of its principles, PositiTism re- moves the antagonism of the different religions which have preceded it, for it claims as its own peculiar domain that common ground on which they all instinctively rested. Nor could the doc- trine of Positivism ever be universally received, were it not for its relative character. This secures for it, in spite of its anti-theological principles, by the nature of the case, strong affinities with every form of belief that has been a1}le for a time to form the guidance of any part of the human race. The Womcm, — Your definition of religion will set me completely at ease, my father, if you can succeed in clearing up a serious difficulty, which seems to be the consequence of its too great comprehensive- ness. In stating your idea of man's unity, you take in his physical as well as his moral nature. They oare, in fact, so bound up together, that no true har- formy is possible if you separate them ; and yet I distv'it difficult to accustom myself to look on health eve a part of religion, so as to make morality really frcke in medicine. dii The FriesL — And yet, my daughter, the arbitrary di^paration of the two, which now exists, and which ne>u wish to perpetuate, would be directly contrary ) our unity. The origin of that separation 1 nwBODucflpioir. 49 reality, the inadequacy of the last provisional reli- gion, Catholicism, which found itself unable to dis- cipHne the soul, unless it gave into profene.hands the management of the, body In the ancient theocracies, the most complete and most durable form of the supernatural r^ghney this groundless division did not exist In them the art of preserv- ing health and of curing diseases was always a mere adjunct of the priestly functions. Such is really the natural order of things. Posi- tivism comes forward to restore it and to consoli- date it ; and it does so by virtue of the complete- ness which chara<5terizes it. The art of man and the science of man are each of them inseparable from the othefrj they have a common destination, though the object they have in view may present itself under different aspects. But it is not, there- fore, divisible; on the contrary, all its parts are intimately connected. No sound treatment of either body or mind is possible, now that the phy- sician and the priest make an exclusive study, the one of the physical, the other of the moral nature of man—not to speak of the philosopher, who, in our modem anarchy, wrests from the priesthood the domain of the intellect, leaving it only the heart. The diseases of the brain, besides many others daily prove the powerlessness of aU medical treat^ ment which limits itself to the lowest organs. It is quite as easy to see the inadequacy of every priesthood which aims at guiding the soul, and does 1^ take into account its subordination to the body. •J M omiomponoa; Uttder bdtk |>oiBts of Tiew the separation is anar- d&icaL The domain of the priesthood must be reoonstituted in its integrity ; medicine must again become a part of it. This will be the case when the dergy of Positive religion shall have adequately fulfilled the encyclopedic eonditions required of them. As a matter of faot^ the precepts of health oan secure active obedience only when they are rested on moral grounds. This is true equally of the individual and the society. It is easily verified by the fhiitlessness of the efibrts made by our physicians in Western Europe to regulate common diet. 'Hiey have been fruitless ever since the old religious precepts lost their hold. Men will not generally submit to any practical inoonvenience on the ground of their own mere personal health, — eaflh one is left, on this ground, to judge for himself. And we are often more sensible of actual and certain annoyance than of distant and doubtful advantages. We must call in an authority supe- rior to all individual judgment, to be able to pre- fioribe, even in unimportant points, rules which shall have any real efficacy. Such rules will then rest on a view of the needs of society, which shall admit of no hesitation as to obedience. The Wonum. — Now that I have surveyed, in all its extent, the natural province of religion, I should be glad to know, my father, what are the general conditions on which it depends. I have been often told that it exclusively concerns the heart But I have always thought that the intellect is also con* INTBODUCTION. 51 cemed with it. Could I gain a clear idea of the parts respectively assigned them 1 The Frieat, — A right judgment on this point, ray daughter, follows &om a searching examination of the word religion, the best, perhaps, in point of composition, of all the terms used by man. It is so constructed as to express a twofold connexion, >vhich, if justly conceived, is sufficient as a resiime of the whole abstract theory of man's unity. To constitute a couiplete and durable harmony, what is wanted, is really, to hind together man's inner nature by love, and then to hind the man to the outer world by faith. Such, generally stated, is the necessary participation of the heart and the intellect respectively, in reference to the synthe- tical state, or unity, of the individual or the so- ciety. Unity implies, above all, one feeling to which all our different inclinations can be subordinated. For, as our actions and our thoughts are always swayed by our affections, harmony would be unattainable by man if these affections were not co-ordinated under the preponderance of one instinct. This is the condition on which our internal unity depends. But it would be inadequate, did not our intelligence make us recognise, outside of us, a superior power, to which our existence must always be in subjection, even whilst we attempt to modify . it. To qualify us better for subjects of this ultimate rule, — ^this is the primary reason why our moral iiarmony, as individuals or as societies, is indiapen- b2 52 INTBODUCTION. sable. Aixd, reversing the process, this predomi- nance of the external tends to regulate the internal, by favouring the ascendancy of that instinct which most easily accepts such a necessity. So there is a natural connexion between the two general con- ditions on which religion depends^ especially when the external order of things can become the object on which the inward feeling can rest. The Woman. — This abstract theory of our unity presents, my father, one radical difficulty, viz.; as regards the question of moral influence. In your consideration of the internal harmony, you seem to me to forget that our personal instincts have, un- fortunately, greater energy than our sympathetic tendencies. Now the preponderance of these per- sonal instincts, which seems a reason for their being made the natural centre of our moral existence, would, on the other hand, make our personal unity almost incompatible with any social unity. Yet the harmony of the individual has been found not irreconcilable with that of the society, so thaW I need some fresh explanations to show that the two are in themselves entirely compatible. The Priest. — You have touched, my daughter, on the most difficult problem of man's existence. That problem is, to secure the gradual predominance of sociability over personality ; whereas, when left to themselves, personality is predominant. The better to understand how this may be done, we must begin by comparing the two opposite forms which our moral unity might naturally take, according as its INTRODUCTION. ^ 53 internal basis should be egoistic or altruistic (per- * sonal or relative). You used the plural in speaking of our person- ality, and you by so doing involuntarily bore witness to the fact that personality is radically powerless to constitute any real and lasting harmony, even in the case of a being quite cut off from society. The monstrous unity so formed would require not merely the absence of every impulse of a sym- pathetic character, but also the preponderance of one single selfish instinct. Kow this is only found in the lowest animals. With them the instinct of nutrition absorbs everything, especially when there is no distinction of sex. But except in them, and most particularly in man, this primary want once supplied, there is scope left for the prevalence in succession of several personal instincts. These are nearly equal in point of energy, and so would mutually neutralize the conflicting claims of each to the entire command of our existence as moral lyings. Unless they were all brought into subor- dination to affections resting on some outward object, the heart would be for ever agitated by internal conflicts between the impulses of the senses and the stimulus of pride or of vanity, sup- posing that avarice, strictly so called, should cease to reign, together with the purely bodily wants. Moral unity, then, is impossible, even in a solitary existence, in the case of any being absolutely under the dominion of personal affections, which prevent his living for others. We find instances in several 54 INTRODUCTIOK. of the wild animals. They are seen, putting aside some temporary congregation, to oscillate generally between a disorderly activity and an ignoble torpor, the result of their not finding outside of themselves the principal motives for their conduct^ The Woman, — I understand dqw, my father, the natural coincidence that exists between the condi- tions on which the individual, and those on which the harmony of society, depends. Still, however, I find the same difficulty exists — that of conceivii^ that the strongest instincts can be habitually set aside. Ths Priest, — The difficulty, my daughter, is one which will easily disappear. Only remark that unity in the altruistic sense does not, as the egoistic unity does, require the entire sacrifice to itself of the inclinations which are contrary to it in principle. All it asks is, that they shall be wisely subordinate to the predominant affection. When it condenses the whole of sound morality in its law of Livejfbr others, Positivism allows and consecrates the con- stant satisfaction of our several personal instincts. It considers such satisfaction indispensable to our natural existence, which is and always must be the foundation for all our higher attributes. Allowing this, it blames, however estimable the motives that lead to them often may be, any austerities which, by lessening our strength, make us less fit to serve others. It recommends attention to ourselves in the interest of society, and so at once raises and regulates such attention. We avoid equally the iNTRODucrnoiF. 5i!f two extremes of excessive care aad culpable neg- ligenca Tho Woman. — ^But, mj &.ther, as the egointk indinations^ in theioselves stronger, are^ further, Goxxstantly excited by our bodily wantSy it seema to me that, even thus limited, the sanction of them is incompatible with the habitual superiority of our -weak sympathetic impulses. The FriesL — ^Yes, and therefore it is, my daugh- ter, that our moral improvement will always form the principal object on which man must exert his art. Our constant efforts, both as individuals and societies, though they bring us nearer to it, never enable us to realize it completely. The solution of your difficulty is a progressive one. Its possibility rests entirely on the social existence of man, in accordance with the natural law which develops or restrains our functions and our organs in propor- tion to their exercise or disuse. As a &ot, our domestic and civic relations have a tendency to keep within due bounds our personal instincts, as the result of the struggles between individuals to which these instincts give rise. On the other hand, these same relations favour the growth of our feelings of benevolence, the only ones that admit of a simultaneous development in alL And this development is, by its nature, continuous, as the mutual stimulus is continuous, although it finds necessarily a limit in the aggregate of the material oomditions of our existence. Tou have here the reason why a real moral 56 INTBODITOnOK. unity could only come into existence in the case of man. For social progress must be the exclusive possession of the best organized of the races capable of society, except so £Eur as others may join it as free auxiliaries. Still, though such a harmony cannot be developed elsewhere, it is easy to trace its beginning in many of the higher animals. From them were in &ct drawn the first scientific proofs of the natural existence of disinterested affection. This great conception, of which, even previous to all scientific proo^ all had a presentiment, was long in being placed on a systematic ground j otherwise no one would, at the present day, impute the cha- racter of sentimental affectation to a doctrine which may b§ directly verified in so many of the inferior . species. The Woman, — ^Your explanation meets my difli- culties. I have only, my father, to ask you to clear up one last point of a general character — I mean, the intellectual conditions of religion. I see the incoherence of the various special forms of belief; but I do not see, beyond that incoherence, what is the essential province of &ith. And yet it must be possible to say what faith is, independently of all systems, and in a sense applicable to them all. The Priest. — Practically, my daughter, the faith of man never had but one object, if you press to the root of the matter. This was, to form a conception of the order under which man lives, ^th the view of determining our relation generally to that order. ^ Man might ascribe that order to fictitious causes. nrrBODucTXON. 57 or he might study its real laws ; in either case, his object was to estimate that order which was inde- pendent of him, with the view of submitting to it better, and of attaining a greater power of modify- ing it. Every system of religious doctrines neces- .sarily rests on some explanation, no matter what, of the world and of man — ^the twofold object at fkU times of our thoughts, whether directed to specu* jation or to action. '^ Faith, in 'the-3Positive sense, has for its proper office the setting forth of the real laws of the dif- ferent phenomena that are open to observation, iRrhether internal or external. By the laws of phe- nomena I mean, their unvarying relations of suc- cession and resemblance, by which we are able to foresee some by virtue of our knowledge of others. Such faith puts aside, as absolutely beyond our reach and essentially conducive to no useful result, every inquiry into the causes^ properly so called, either first causes or final, of any events whatever. In its theoretical conceptions, it never explains why a thing is j it limits itself to the question, how it is. But when it is pointing out the means of guiding our activity, it takes the contrary course, and puts for- ward in constant prominence the end to be attained, as in such cases the practical effect is certainly the result of an intelligent will. Yet though, in its direct results, vain, the search *afber cause% was, at the outset, indispensable and inevitable, as a substitute and preparation for the knowledge of laws, a knowledge which pre-supposes 6S nvTBODuonoK. la long previous introdnction. This I vnil explain 'more in detail. Men sought the why, Shnd conld not find it ; in the search they discoyered the hoWy though they had not bent their studies immediately in that direction. We need not blame them for this^ but we may blame the childishness of persist* ing, as our literary men so commonly do, in the \ attempt to penetrate to causes when the laws are known. These last alone have any influence on \ conduct, so that the search after the others becomes las useless as it is chimerical. ' The Universal religion, then, adopts, as its funda^ mental dogma, the fact of the existence of an order, which admits of no variation, and to which all events of every kind are subject. This order is at once objec^e and autjectwe ; in other words, it concerns equally the object contemplated and the subject which contemplates. Physical laws, in fiict, imply logical laws, and vice versd. If our under- standing did not of itself obey any rule, it would never be able to appreciate the external harmony. And as the world is simpler and more powerful than man, the regular action of man would be still less compatible with the absence of order in the world. All Positive belief, then, rests on this twofold har- mony between the object and the subject. That there is such an order can be shown as a fact, but it cannot be explained. So far from it, it supplies the only possible source of »ny rational* explanation. Such explanation consists in bringing under general laws each particular event, whidi DrtPEODUCTIOK. 59 -bhus comes within the sphere of prevision based on eiystematic principles, the really distinctive end that all true science proposes to itself. And therefoi-e the Universal order was not recognised so long as the idea prevailed of an arbitrary will, to which men naturally at first attributed all the most im- portant phenomena. It was recogfiised at last in xeference to the simplest events, iii defiance of the contrary opinions^ on the evidence of experience constantly recurring and never belied. From the simpler, its recognition gradually extended to the \nore complex events. Not till our own time was its recognition complete, for it embraces now its last domain ; it represents as subject to invariable laws the highest phenomena — Oman's intelligence and his sodal existence — a point still denied by many culti- vated minds. This final discovery led to Positivism as its natural immediate result. It was the com- pletion of our long scientific initiation. As such it ne- cessarily closed the preliminary era of human reason. The Woman. — This first general view, myfiiAker, leaves me with the impression that the Positive faith is very satisfactory for the intellect, but scarcely favourable enough to the action of man. It seems to place this last under the control of ati inflexible destiny; and yet you often say that the Positive spirit had its origin, in aU cases, in the practical part of man's life, so that it can hardly be ^n contradiction with that part. I would gladly have a clear conception how the two are brought into general agreement. ^ 60 INTBODUCTION. ' The Priest, — To get this conception, my daughter, all you have to do is to rectify your judgment so fiur ad it led you to look on actual laws as not susceptible of modificatijjn. Whilst phenomena were attributed to the arbitrary will of some being, an absolute fate was a conception necessary as the correction of an hypothesis, the direct consequence of which was the non-existence of any real order. Later^ the discovery of natural laws had the same general tendency; for the laws first difiicovered were those which regulated the events of astro- nomical science — events entirely out of the reach of man's interference. But as the knowledge of the order of things gradually extended, men came to regard that order as essentially admitting modifica- tions, even by the agency of man. It becomes more susceptible of modification as the phenomena become more complicated, as I will explain to you shortly. At the present day, we do not consider even the order of the heavenly bodies exempt from the idea of modification. Its superior simplicity allows us more easily to conceive improve- ments in it The object of such conception would be to correct the spirit of blind respect; though our weakness in regard to physical means may for ever debar us from realizing the improvements we con- ceive. All events equally, even the most complex, de- pend on some fundamental conditions which admiif of no change. But in all cases, even the most simple, it is also true that the secondary arrange- INTRODUCTION. 61 ments may be modified, and" very generally they may be so by our intervention. The modifications introduced in no way impair the validity of the general principle, that th^ laws of nature are inva- riabla For the modifications never can be arbitrary. In their nature and degree they must obey appro- priate rules which ' are the complement of the do- main of science. An entire immutability would be so contrary to the very idea of law, that this idea in all cases expresses constancy perceived in the midst of variety. We find, then, that the order of nature always answers to the idea of a necessity admitting modifi- cations, and as such becomes the indispensable basis of the order which man introduces. Our life is really destined to be a compound of resignation and actioiL The two are not incompatible; far from it. Action rests directly on the foundation of resignation. A sound judgment leads us to submit to the fundamental laws which concern us, as the only means of preventing all our purposes, of what- ever nature, from becoming vague and uncertain; the only means therefor^ of enabling us to practise a wise interference in accordance with the secon- dary rules. You thus see how the dogmatic sjrstem of Positivism dii'ectly sanctions our action, whereas no theological synthesis could comprehend it. We even find that in Positivism, the free development of our activity is the chief regulator of our scientific ^labours in regard to the order of the world, and the different modifications it admits. 62 INTBOlWOTIOir. The Woman. — After this explanation, I have yet, my father^ to learn how Positive faith and our feelings can be brought into full harmony. They seem to me by nature diametrically o^^osed to one another. I can understand, however, that the fundamental dogma of that faith supplies us with a strong basis for moral discipline, in two ways : first, by bringing our personal inclinations under the con- ^ trd of an external power j secondly, by awakening' our instincts of sympathy to make us more wisely submit to or modify the necessity which presses on us all in common. These are valuable attributes. But still Positivism does not seem to offer enough of direct stimiilus to the holy affections, which seem properly to constitute the most important province of religion. The Priest. — I am free to confess, my daughter, that hitherto the Positive spirit has been tainted with the two moral evils which peculiarly wait on knowledge. It pu£& up and it dries the heart, by giving free scoj)e to pride and by turning it from love. These two tendencies will always be suffi- ciently strong in it to makp it necessary habitually to adopt systematic precautions. Of them I will speak later^ Still in the main, on this point, your reproaches are the result of an inadequate judgment of Positivism, the consequence of your looking at it solely as it exists in a state of incompleteness in the greater number of its adherents. They limit themselves to the philosophical conception which in the of&pring of the scientific preparation; the} urTfioi>0Czioii. 63 will not go on to the religious GODoln&don in which , alcme Positive Philosophy, as a vhole, finds its ade* I quate expression. If we do not stop short at this ^ point, but complete the study of the real order oi nature, then we see the Positive system of dogmas finally group itself aroxind a synthetic conception, as faTourable to the heart as it is to the intelleot. . The imaginary beings, whom religion provision- ally introduced for its purposes, were able to inspire lively affections in man; affections which were even most powerM imder the least elaborate of the fictitious systems. The immense scientific prepara- tion required as an introduction to Positivism, for a long tinie seemed to deprive it of any such valu- 'ahle aptitude. Whilst the philosophical initiation only comprehended the order of the material world, nay, even when it had extended to the order of living beings, it could only reveal laws which were indispensable for our action, it could not furnish us with any direct object for an enduring and con- stant affection. This is no longer the case since the completion of our gradual preparation by the introduction of the special study of the order of man^s existence, whether as an individual or as a society. This is the last step in the process. "We are now abke to condense the whole of our Positive concep- ticins in the one single idea of an immense and emal Being, Humanity, destined by sociological la^s to constant development under the prepon- ating influence of biological and cosmologioal / 64 INTRODUCTION. necessities. This, the real Great Being, on whom all, whether individuals or societies, depend as the prime mover of their existence, becomes the centre of onr affections. They rest in it by as spon- taneous an impulse as do our thoughts and om actions. This Being, by its very idea, suggests a^ once the sacred formula of Positivism : — Lther, and I would ask you now to enter on a systematic exposition of Positive doc- trine. Would you begin by explaining move directly and fully that one doctrine on which it all rests % I already understand that the Great Being, in yoar conception, is, by its very nature, the expression of the whole order of things — ^not merely of the order of man, but of the external world. As this is the case, I feel to want a clearer and more precise definition as regards this Being, the fundamental idea which gives unity to Positivism. The Priest, — As a first step, my daughter, you must define Humanity as the whole of human beings, past, present, and future. The word whole points out dearly that you must not take in all men, but those only who are really capable of assimilation, in virtue of a real co-operation on their part in furthering the common good. All are necessarily bom children of Hu- manity, but all do not become her servants. Many remain in the parasitic state, which, excusable during their education, becomes blameable when that education is complete. Times of anarchy bring forth in swarms such creatures — nay, even enable them to flourish — ^though they are, in sad truth, but burdens on the true Great Being. Often have you been reminded by them of the ener- DPEBODUOWON. 75 g^iic reprobation of Anoeto, borrowed from IjSorace — I Venuto al mundo sol per far letame : J "Bom upon the earth merely to manure it ;" land, still better, of the admimble condenmation of I Dante— Ohe visser senza infamia e senza lodo • « « « Cacciarli i ciel per non esser men belli, Nd lo profondo inferno li riceve, Ch'alcuna gloria i rei avrebber d'elli, « « • ♦ Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa. InfemOy iii. 36 — 51. "WhoUyed Without or praise or blame Heaven drove them forth Not to impair his lustre ; nor the depth Of Hell receives t^em, lest the accursed tribe Should glory thence with exultation vain. « « « • Speak not of them, but look and pass them by." Cabt's Translation. So 70a see that in this respect, as in all others, the imipiration of the poet was iax in advance of the systematic Tiew of the philosopher. Be this as it •may, these mere digesting machines are no real part of Humanity. Tou may reject them, and to make up for the loss associate with the new Supreme Being all the animals who lend a noble aid. Wherever we find habitual co-operation in forwarding the destinies of man, and that co-ope- 76 U9TBODUCnON. ration given voluntarily, there the being which gives it becomes a real element of this compound existence ; and the degree of importance it attains is proportioned to the dignity of the species to which it belongs, and to its own individual value. To form a right estimate of this indispensable com- plement of human existence, let us imagine our- selves without it. We should then be led without hesitation to look on many horses, dogs, oxen, - ordination of that life to the objective. The world within is essentially at all times under the regu- lating power of the world without, from which also it draws its nourishment and stimulua This is true of the life of the brain, as much as of our ^ore strictly bodily life. Let our conceptions be as fiintastical as they may, they must always bear the stamp of the rule of the outer world j a rule not self-chosen, and one which becomes less simple, as well as less complete, in proportion as it becomes more indirect. AH this is but the necessary con- sequence of the indisputable principle on which I rested our whole theory of the intellect, the dy- namical as well as statical theory, thus brought into connexion with the fundamental system of biologicieJ conceptions. The order which man produces can never be any- thing but the improvement of the order of nature. And the improvement mainly consists in develop- ment. So we are led to feel here, as everywhere else, and even more here than elsewhere, that the true liberty of man is essentially the result of due submission. But in order properly to apply to the subjective life this general rule of the objective, we must begin by examining, under this fresh aspect, the constitution of the whole order of nature. For 96 FIRST PABT. the laws which combine to form it are far from beiDg equally applicable to the subjective life. To make ydiir ideas more definite^ I will specify but one case, the simplest and the most common — ^viz., ^sHien in our subjective worship we wish to call back into existence one whom we have loved. Were I not to specify some such case, in which the heart aids the inteUect, it would be easy to go astray in the study of such a domain. But all the ideas formed in this way, in a case taken from our most private worship, and quite within our range, will be easily applied, with the suitable modifications, to the rest of sociolatry. The Womcm, — I feel grateful to you, my fiither, for your consideration, which I feel to be indis- pensable for me. The doctrine is no less novel than difficult ; for the problem could not be stated even, so long as belief in a supernatural power prevailed. Such a belief forbade us to represent to ourselves the dead otherwise than in a mysterious condition, generally left utterly vague. This state allowed of no analogy on essential points between us and them. Supposing us free from all uneasiness as to their ultimate fate, we were never allowed to form for them a subjective life. To do so was an act of impiety, for it gave the creature the affection due to the Creator. But if the power to state this affecting question is, by the necessity of the case, peculiar to Positivism, not less peculiar to that system is the general answer, as the only system which has revealed the true laws of man's intellect. I can THE WORSHIP. 97 then form a conception at once of the general method of subjective worship, and of it« normal basis, which makes this ideal existence the ^mple continuation of our real life. But would you explain to me directly the modifications of which our life, so continued^ JU-suaceptible? --^"TKe^rieBi, — These modifications consist, my daughter, in the suppression, or at least in the neglect of, all the lower laws, in order to give greater predominance to the higher ones. During the objective life, the dominion exercised by the outer world over the world of man is as direct as it is unbroken. But in the subjective life the out- ward order becomes simply passive. It ceases to have any but the indirect influence attaching to it as the original source of the ideas we wish to cherish. The dead we love are no longer under the dominion of the rigorous laws of the material world, nor even under the general laws of life. On the contrary, the laws peculiar to man's existence, particularly to his moral existence, though not excluding his social, govern, with a firmer government than during life, the existence which the dead retain in our brain. This existence is by its very nature merely an intel- lectual and affective existence. It is essentially ideal \ and the ideas it raises bring back the feelings with which the being we have lost inspired us, and the thoughts to which he gave rise. Our subjective worship aims, then, at nothing more than a species of internal evolution, the gradual result of our exercise of the brain according to the appropriate H 98 FIBST PART. laws. The image we form always remains less clear andless lively than the object it is to represent^ in obedience to the ftindamental law of our intellect^ But since the contrary is often the case in diseases of the brain, a successful cultivation of ourselves' may bring us, in our normal state, nearer to the necessary limit, far nearer than could possibly be believed hitherto, whilst this beautiful domain remained vague and dark. With a view to getting a more exact conception -nk of this general subordination, observe that the sub- jective evocation of the loved object should always be connected with our last objective impressions of him. This is most evident as to age^ for death prevents any increase of that. I^ then, we lose our friends prematurely, the effect is to invest them with eternal youth. This law, binding on the original adorer, must of necessity be obeyed by his most distant adherents. No one will ever be able to represent to himself Beatrice, the gentle patroness of Dante, otherwise than as Dante did, as twenty- five years old. We may think of her as younger, * we cannot imagine her older. The objective and the subjective life, then, differ fundamentally in this : — The first is "under the direct control of physical laws ; the second under that of moral laws. The laws of the intellect axe equally applicable to both. This distinction loses something of its marked character, when we see that, in both cases, the more general order always comes before the more special For so the difference is THE WORSHIP. 99 limited simply to the mode in which we estimate generality; we egftimate it first in* reference to .phenomena, in the second case in reference to our /conceptions. This remark will be explained when we come to the doctrine. Be this as it may, the necessary preponderance of moral laws, in the case of the subjective life, is in perfect conformity with our nature. So much so, that not only was it involuntarily respected, but it was known and appreciated, at the earliest stage of man's intellectual growth. You know that, as a fact, the great moral laws had been stated, though empirically, in their leading features at least, long previous to any real recognition of the lowest physical laws. At a time when poets, in their fictions, set aside without scruple the general con- ditions of the order of the outer world, and even those of life, they observed with admirable exact- ness the leading ideas of social, and still more moral order. Men found no difficulty in admitting the existence of invulnerable heroes and of gods who took any shape at pleasure. But the instinct of the great mass, as well as the genius of the poet, would at once have rejected any moral incoherence — i^ for example, a writer had ventured on attributing to a 9user of a~oowaxd.llbeKaliliy.or courage. The Womcm, — By the light of your explanations I see, my father, that, in our subjective worship, we may neglect physical laws, whilst we cling more closely to moral laws; for- it is on the real knowledge of these last that the new order of institu- h2 100 FIRST PABT. tions must depend for its advance. The imagination easily frees itself from the most general conditions, even those of space and time, provided that the requirements of moral feeling are always respected. But I should wish to know how we are to use the liberty thus given us to &cilitate our attainment of the main end of subjective worship— I mean, our mental evocation, by the agency of the brain, of the objects of our affections. The Priest. — So stated, my daughter, your ques- tion is easily answered. It is a self-evident pro- position, that the better to concentrate our strength on this holy object, we must divert none of it on superfluous modifications of the order of life, nor even of the order of matter. Be careful then that no change take place in the outer circumstances. The person you adore should in this respect be as he was in life. Use them even to reani- mate more effectually his image. You will find, on this point, in my System of Positive Politics^ an important observation : — " Our recollection of our friends becomes at once clearer and more lasting, if we fix with precision the mq,terial environment, before we place in it the living imaga" I would even advise you, as a general rule, to break up this arrangement of the outward circumstance into its three essential parts, always proceeding from without inwards, according to the principle of our hierarchy. This rule of worship is obeyed, by first getting a precise idea of the place, next of the seat or the attitude, and lastly of the dress, appropriate to THE WORSHIP. 101 each particular case. Our heart may feel impatient at the delay thus caused ; but we soon come to feel its efficacy when we see the loved image gradually ^ acquire by these means a vividness and a clearness which at first seemed impossible. These operations are essentially within the pro- vince of esthetics. They become easier to under- stand if we place them by the side of the opei».tion3 of science, as we may do by virtue of the necessary identity of the chief laws of both. In strict truth, science, when it points out beforehand a future often distant, ventures on a still bolder effort than art does, when it would call up some cherished memory. Our brilliant success in the former case, though there the intellect derives much less aid from the heart, authorizes us to hope for more satisfactory results in the other, where alone we have the certainty of " arriving at some solution or other. This certainty rests, to say the truth, entirely on the knowledge of the laws of the brain, of which our conceptions are still very confused. Our astronomical previsions, on the other hand, depend more than anything on the simplest and ^ best known of external laws. But whilst this distinction is adequate to explain \ the inequality of our success in the two cases, it \ shows us that such inequality is simply provisional. /\ WheiTthe^u^er laws shall be sufficiently known, . the Positive priesthood will draw from them results ' more precious, and susceptible of greater regularity, tlian those of astronomy, even when most successful. For astronomy becomes uncertain in its previsions, 102 FIRST PART* and even fails altogether, as soon as the questions become very complicated. This is generally tlie qase with comets. We need not justly incur any charge of chimerical presumption when we say that the providence of man can, and ought to, secure more complete regularity in the order which is most amenable to its action, than can prevail, as regards the majority of events, in the order which obeys simply a blind fatality. The greater compli- cation of the phenomena will ultimately be over- come, in these high cases, by the powerful sagacity* of man, the modifying agent. All that we need is a sufficient knowledge of the order of man's world. The Worrum, — I feel, my father, that to subordi- nate the subjective to the objective, is at once the constant obligation and the most important resource of Positive worship. You have made me quite understand that, far from wishing to withdraw our- selves from this necessary yoke, we ought freely to accept it, even when we might neglect it. For such a complete submission makes our subjective life much easier, at the same time that it economizes all our most valuable strength. But here I stop. I do not see, from this point onwards, in what properly consists our action in this internal exis- tence \ and yet this existence ought, it seems to me, in its own way to be less passive even than our external one. TJiA Priest, — Our action consists, my daughter, in idealizing. This is almost always to be done by THE WOBSHIP. 1D3 sabtraction, rarely by addition, even when, in add- ing, we observe all proper precautions. The ideal must be an amelioration of the real, or it is inade- quate for its moral purpose. This amelioration is, for the ideal, the true normal compensation of its inferiority to the actual in clearness and liveliness. But the ideal must be subordinate to the real, otherwise the representation would be untrue, and the worship would become mystical. A too servile adherence to reality, again, would leave it empirical. Our rule avoids equally these two contrary devia- tions. We find a natural indication of its sound- ness in our tendency to forget the defects of the dead, whilst we only recall their good qualities. From this point of view, I would have you see in the rule nothing more than a particular deduction from the dogmatic conception of Humanity. Our Divinity only incorporates into herself the dead who are really meritorious. But in doing so, she puts away from each the imperfections which in all cases dimmed their objective lifa Dante had, in his own manner, an anticipation of this law when he formed that beautiful fiction, which makes the preparation for blessedness consist in drinking first of the river of oblivion, then of Eunoe, which calls up only the memory of good. In ameliorating, then, those whom you choose as representatives of Humanity, add but very secondary improvements, not such as impair the real impression even of their outward form, much less that of their moral cha- racter. But give free scope, always of course with 104 FIB8T PART. prudence, to your natural disposition to clear them of their different faults. The Womcm, — In the true theory then, my father, of the subjective life, our worship ultimately leaves the order of the otyer world such as it actu- ally is, with the view of concentrating with greater effect on man's world our chief efforts for improve- ment. The noble existence which thus perpetuates us in others is the worthy continuation of the one by which we deserved immortality; the moral pro- gress of the individual and the race is ever the most important destination of both lives. The dead with us are set free from all necessity to obey the laws of matter or the laws of life. We remember that they were once subject to them, but we do so only that we may be better able to recall them such as we knew them. But they do not cease to love, and even to think, in us and by us. The sweet exchange of feelings and ideas that passed between us and them, during their objective life, becomes closer and more continuous when they are set free from their bodily existence. And yet although, under these conditions, their life is deeply mixed up with our own, they preserve unimpaired their originality — their own distinct moral and mental character, supposing that they ever had a reaDy distinct character. We may even say that their more prominent characteristics become more marked, in proportion as this close intercourse becomes more free. This Positive conception of the future life is cer^ THE WOBSHIP. 105 tainly nobler than that of any theological school, at the same time that it alone is true. When I was a Catholic, in the period of my most fervent belief, I could not help being deeply shocked on studying the childish conception ^f blessedness which we find in a father of such high moral and intellectual eminence as St. Augustin. I was almost angry when I found him hoping some day to be free from the laws of weight, and even from the need of taking food. By a gross contradiction, he kept the power of eating what he liked, without any fear, it would seem, of becoming inordinately fat. The contrast is well adapted to make us feel how greatly Posi- tivism improves immortality, at the same time that it places it on a firmer footing, when it changes it from objective to subjective. Still, clear as the superiority is, I cannot but regret, in the old wor- ship, its great institution — prayer. Prayer does not seem to me to be compatible with the new faith. The Priest, — ^Were there really such an omission, my daughter, it would be extremely serious; for the regular practice of prayer, private or public, is the capital condition of any worship whatever. Far from failing to fulfil this condition. Positivism satisfies it better than Catholicism; for it purifies the institution of prayer, at the same time that it developes it. Your mistake on this point is the result of the low notion generally formed of prayer. We make it consist in asking for something — too often in asking for the supply of our bodily wants, 106 FIRST PART. in accordance with the profoundly egoistic character of every form of theological worship. For ns, on the contrary, prayer is the ideal of life; for to pray is at one and the same time to love, to think, and even to act, since expression is always, in the true sense of the word, an action. Never can the three aspects of human life be united with so intimate an. union as in our admirable effusions of gratitude and love towards our great Divinity, or her worthy representatives and organs. No interested motive is any longer allowed to stain the purity of our prayers. Still, as the practice of daily prayer greatly im- proves the heart, and even the intellect, we are warranted in keeping in sight this valuable result. Nor need we fear that the intrusion in this degree of our personality will ever degrade us. The Posi- tivist prays in order to give expression to his best affections. This is his main object. He may also ask, but he asks only for a noble progress, which he ensures almost by the very asking. The fervent wish to become more tender, more reverential, more courageous even, is itself in some degree a realiza- tion of the desired improvement. At least it con- tains the first step to any.improvement — ^the sincere confession of our actual imperfection. This holy influence of prayer may extend to the intellect, were it only by urging us to new efforts to improve our thought. On the contrary, to ask for an increase of riches or power would, in our worship, be as absurd as it is ignoble. We do not envy the THE WORSHIP. 107 believers in theology the unlimited command ovet the external world which they hope to obtain by prayer. All our subjective efforts are limited to perfect, as far as is possible, the world of man^ which is nobler and also more susceptible of modifi- cation. In a word, Positivist prayer takes com- plete possession of the highest domain of all, that once set apart for supernatural grace. The Positive idea of sanctification systematizes moral progress. Previously such progress had been looked on as rejecting any idea of law, although its pre-eminence was quite acknowledged. The Womcm, — I accept your explanation as deci- sive; and I now beg you, my father, to point out to me the general course to be adopted in regard to Positivist prayer. The Priest, — For that purpose you must divide it, my daughter, into two separate and successive parts — the one passive, the other active. They concern respectively the past and the future, with the pre- sent for connecting link. Our worship must always be the expression of love, springing from and deve- loping gratitude to the past, a gratitude ever on the increase. All prayer, then, private or public, ought to begin by commemoration as a prepara- tion for effusion, this last occupying half the time the former occupies. When a happy combination of signs and ideas has sufficiently rekindled the warmth of our feelings towards the object of our adoration, we then pour them forth with real fer- vour. Such fervour has a tendency still further to 108 , FIKST PART. strengthen the feelings, and so to make us more ready for the evocation with which we conclude. The Woman, — Satisfied with these hints, I would ask you, my father, to complete your general view of our worship, by directly explaining to me, in its more important features, its influence on our im- provement. I feel that I understand it thoroughly ; yet I could not define it so as to state it to others in a shape to secure a fair judgment. This is why I ask you, on this point, for a systematic explana- tion, as a guide for me — ^first, in my own practice ; next, in my efforts to convert others. The Priest, — Our worship improves the heart and the intellect simultaneously; yet it is important, my daughter, to separate in our view its reactioa on our moiul state, and its influence on our intel- lect. Its result, in the first case, is an immediate con- sequence of the first law of animal life ; for worship is always a real eosercisCy and more truly so thaa anything else. This is pointed out by ordinary language, here, as elsewhere, the faithful picture of human existence. Above all does such a view of it admit of no dispute when prayer is complete — that is to say, when it is oral as well as mental. We actually bring into play in expression, whether by sounds, or by gestures, or attitudes, the same muscles that we do in action. So every expression of right feelings has a tendency to strengthen them and develope them, in the same way as the acts to which they lead would do, if we performed them. THE WOBSHIP. 109 1 am bound, however, on this point, to guard against a dangerous exaggeration, and I do so by urging you never to confuse these two great mural influences — ^the influence of our expressions, and the influence of our actions. It is true that the laws which govern them both are essentially similar ; but in no case can they, therefore, be looked on as of equal value. It is the result of universal expe- rience, fiiUy confirmed by our cerebral theory, that action will always have more effect than prayer, not merely on the external result, but also on the amelioration of our nature. Still, second to the practice of good actions, nothing is better adapted to strengthen and develope our best sentiments than their due expression, supposing it become as habitual as it ought to be. Now, this general means of amelioration is ordinarily more within our reach than action ; for acting often requires materials or circumstances beyond our reach, so as at times to confine us to the mere barren wisL By virtue of their being thus accessible, the practices of our worship come to be, for our moral progress, a valuable supplement to our active life ; and there is no difficulty in reconciling the two, such is the perfect homogeneity of Positive religion. \ The Womcm, — I now understand the moral influ- ence of our worship. I need, my father, more full explanations as to its influence on our intellect. I am by no means so clear as to this. TheFHeat — You must keep distinct, my daughter, its two main cases — ^the one, in which its efficiency 110 FIRST PABT. is limited to the sphere of art; the other, in which it passes into that of science. From the first point of view, the power of Posi- tive worship on the mind is direct and striking — first, as regards the most general art; next, as it regards the two special arts, those of sound ol form. Poetry is the soul of our worship, as science is of the doctrine, and industry of the regime. Every prayer, private as well as public, becomes in Posi- tivism a real work of art, inasmuch as it is the expression of our best feelings. In prayer, nothing can free us from the obligation of constantly form- ing our prayers ourselves ; so that every Positivist must be, in some respects, as it were; a poet — at least, for his own private worship. We must use fixed forms of prayer, in order to secure more r^u- larity; but these forms must originlilly, in all cases, be drawn up by him who uses them, or he will find that they have no great efficiency. However, though the form remains the same, the prayer admits of some degree of variety, as it is the aHificial digns only that are fixed. Their uniformity only brings into a stronger light the spontaneous variations of natural language. Such language, whether musical or mimic, is always more estbetical than the other. This poetical faculty of originating our praye];^ will be largely developed when the regeneration of education shall have sufficiently trained all Posi> tivists in the views it requires, and even in such compositions. This I will point out to you in the Third Part of this Catechism. When we have ^-K THB WORSHIP. Ill reached that pointy the general art will always derive suitable assistance from the special arts. All will; then be familiar with singing, which is essentially , the basis of music. All will be familiar also with drawing, the general source of the three arts of form- f-painting, sculpture, and architecture. Lastly/ when we draw out our form of worship, we may generally introduce special ornaments, chosen with judgment from the accumulated stores of human art, the esthetic treasures of Humanity. Additions of this kind seem, at first sight, limited to public worship; but private worship is equally open to them, and equally benefited by them, provided it borrows with discretion and moderation. All true poets have, at all times, given expression to the leading feelings of our nature. As that nature remains the same^ their productions are always in sufficient consonance with our own emotions. When the agreement, without being entii^ely complete, is nearly so, we may borrow from the poets, and find in what we- borrow more than the merely intellec- tual merit of a more perfect expression — ^we find, what is &r more, the moral charm of a personal sympathy. The older the source jfrom which wo borrow our ornaments, the more suitable they are ; kfor they lend a sanction to our affections, seen thus to be in spontaneous harmony, not merely with those of the great poet^ but also with those of all the generations which, in succession, that poet has aided in the expression of their feelings. To secure, how- ever, the full efficiency of this valuable aid, it must 112 FIRST PABT. ijever assume any other than a secondary place. It must remain an addition^ though the degree in which it may be admitted must vary as the cases vary, as I will shortly point out to you. The- Womom, — ^Before you explain to me the influence of the Positive worship on our intellect, would you, my father, clear up a serious difliculty, naturally arising from the preceding exposition. Worship and poetry seem, in our religion, to melt so entirely one into the other, that the simultaneous growth of the two would appear to require a priestly class quite distinct from that which is to develope and teach the doctrine. I feel that this separation would have a very dangerous tendency. The rivalry of the two bodies would be very difficult to deal with. They would compete for the ultimate direc- tion of the regime, and their claim would be equaL So serious does such a conflict seem, that you can- not avoid meeting the difficulty. If you did, you would compromise the very organization of our priesthood ; for a divided priesthood would be in- capable of presiding over private life, and still more over public life. But then, again, I do not see how we can completely avoid it, as the cultivation of the poetical faculty and the training of the philosophical seem to require a treatment wholly diflTerent. / The Priest. — ^Your error, my daughter, is one which it is important to correct. One of the lead- ing features of our modem anarchy is the general tendency to a dispersive, special action. It is a lamentable waste of strength. Such special action THE WORSHIP. 113 is as absurd as it is immoral. In the normal state, it is only in the sphere of practice that you have special results. There it is necessary, as no one can do everything. But as each one must embrace the whole range of conception, the cultivation of the intellect must, on the contrary, always remain in- divisible. In the sphere of theory there must be no specialty. If there is, we have in such division the first sign of anarchy. So thought the ancients under the theocratic regime, the only instance, as yet, of a complete organization. The separation of the poet from the priest was the sign of the decay of theocracy. Though the genius for philosophy and the genius for poetry cannot ever, at one and the same time, £nd a high destination, intellectually they are iden- tical in nature. Aristotle might have been a great poet, Dante an eminent philosopher, had the time in which they lived been such as to call for less scientific power in the one, or less esthetic power in the other. All these scholastic distinctions were in- vented and maintained by pedants, who, themselves entirely destitute of genius, could not even appre- ciate it in others. Whatever the career it chooses, mental superiority is always the same in kind. The choice of each is fixed for him by his position, espe- cially his position in time ; for the race always exerts a commanding influence over the individual. The only real difference that exists in this re- spect is this, that the services of philosophy are na- turally uninterrupted, whereas the services rendered I 114 FIBST PART. hj poets are necessarily intermittent. None bnt great poets are of use, even for the intellect, but still more from the moral point of view. All other poets do much more harm than good ; whereas quite second- rate philosophers can be made of real use, supposing them to have honesty, good sense and courage. ' Art is meant to develope in us the feeling of perfec- tion; so it cannot tolerate mediocrity. True taste implies lively distaste. From Homer to Walter Scott, we have, in the Western world, only thirteen poets really great, two in ancient times, eleven in modem. In this number I include three prose writers. Of all the rest there are not more than seven you could name as fit for daily reading. The others will, without doubt, be completely thrown aside, as being equally hurtful to the intellect and the heart, when the regeneration of education shall have allowed us to extract whatever useful materials they contain, especially for the purposes of history. Sociocracy, less even than theocracy, requires a fixed class exclusively devoted to the cultivation of poetry. The priests, whose habitual character is the philosophical, will become, for the time, poets, when our Divinity shall stand in need of fresh efiu- sions for general use, sufficient for the wants of several ages, both in public and private worship. Compositions of secondary importance, which na* turally are more frequent, will be generally left to the spontaneous impulses of women or proletaries. As for the two special arts, the long apprenticeship they require, particularly the art of form, will com- THE WORSHIP. pel US to devote to them some select masters. The choice will not be difficult, for the directing priest- hood will have ample opportunities in the natural course of Positive education. These masters will become actual members of the priesthood, or will merely receive pay from it, according as, by their nature, they are more or less synthetical. The Wbmcm, — After these remarks, you may pass at once, my father, to your last general explanation of the efficiency of the worship. Its adaptation to esthetic purposes seems to me evident ; but I do not see in what lies its influence on the intellect The Priest, — In this, my daughter, that it devft- lopes more fully, in all its parts, the universal logic. This logic always rests on a combination of signs, images, and feeling, as assisting the mind in its work- ing. The logic of feeling acts more directly and ener- getically than any other, but its method is deficient in precision and pliancy. Artificial signs are very accommodating, and can be increased at need. By these two properties they make up for their inferi- ority in logical power, the result of the weakness and indirectness of their connexion with our thoughts. The aggregate of intellectual aids which the two form must receive its complement from images. These alone can form it into a whole. They do so by their nature as an intermedium. Now it is especially in reference to this normal bond of true logic that the worship is efficacious, though it also developes its two other constituents. In this re- spect, the child who prays rightly is exercising i2 116 FIBST FAST. more healthily his meditative organ s than the haughty algebrist who, from a deficiency of tender- ness and imagination, is really only cultivating the organ of language by the aid of a particular jargon, which, rightly used, is of very limited application. You may get a clear glimpse by this of the most important intellectual result of Positive worship. It is thus seen to touch only the method properly so called ; to have very little to do with the doctrine. We except, of course, the moral, nay, even the in- tellectufll notions, naturally arising from our reli- gious practices. But the method will always have more value than the doctrine, as feelings have more value than acts, morals than politics. The scien- tific labours hitherto accumulated have, to speak generally, for the most part, merely a logical value. What they teach is often useless, at times even worse than useless This provisional contrast between the method and doctrine will necessarily not be so strong when our encyclopedic discipline shall have delivered us from all the rubbish of the schools. Yet the true logic will always stand higher than science properly so called. This will be most true, of course, for the great mass, but in a degree also for the priesthood. The Wcynum. — All that remains, my father, is to ask you what is the special object of the two other conversations you promised me on the Positive worship. However much I may feel that we have not thoroughly explored its fair domain, I do not see to what point we are now to direct our efforts. ThA Friest. — You will see this, my daughter, if THE WORSHIP. 117 you consider that our worship must be, if it is to succeed at all, first private, then public. These two will be respectively treated in the two following conversations. But first, you must attend to a general point — ^you must bring your judgment to bear directly on the important subordination of the public worship to the private. For on this subor- dination really depends, after all, the chief efficacy of Positive religion. The better to understand it, look on these two branches of worship as addressed respectively, the private to Woman, the public to Humanity. You will then feel that our Divinity can be sincerely honoured by those only who have prepared them- selves for her august worship by the practice of private prayer. That prayer consists in a noble homage daily paid to her best organs. These organs are for the most part subjective, but not to the exclusion of the objective. In a word, the true Church has for its original basis the simple Family. This is even more true in reference to the moral than to the purely social order. The heart can as little avoid this first step, the Family — it can as little avoid looking to it afterwards as an habitual stimu- lus— ^as the intellect can disdain the lower steps in the encyclopedic scale, in order to rise at once to the highest. For these highest constantly enforce on it the necessity of renewing its strength by recurring to the original source. It is the constant practice of private worship that, more than anything else, will ultimately distinguish true Positivists &om the &lse brethren 118 FIRST PABT..- . ^ with whom we shall be burdened as soon as the true religion shall gain ascendancy. Without this mark, hypocrisy would be easy, and the hypocrite would usurp the consideration due only to the sin- cere worshippers of Humanity. Between Humanity and the Family we must also develope the normal intermediate step. We find this in the natural feelings, at the present day vague and weak, which bind us specially to our country properly so called. These intermediate affections require, for their right cultivation, an association of a limited size. This requirement will be the best ground on which to rest the reduction of the large kingdoms of the present day to simple cities with their due adjuncts — a process I shall explain later. . — --'^' CONVERSATION IV. PRIVATE WORSHIP. Tfie Woman, — ^It seems to me, my fisither, that private worship must fall into two parts, as private life does, and those parts quite distinct — the one personal, the other domestic. To keep them sepa- rate seems necessary for our explanation. The Friest. — Your division is the natural one. I was bound not to mix it up with my main division of the worship ; but it gives us, my daughter, the plan of our present conversation. In it we shall deal with two great institutions of sociolatry. The one relates to the true guardian angels, the other to the nine social sacraments. They will constitute PEIVATB WORSHIP. 119 the respective characteristics, first of our personal, next of our domestic worship. The reasons for making the latter subordinate to the former are, though in a less degree, essentially similar to those which represent the whole of private worship as the only solid basis of public. More our own than any other, our personal worship alone can develope in us the habits which can test our adoration whether it be sincere or not. Without these habits, our domestic ceremonies, and still more our public solemnities, could have no moral efficacy. Thus sodolatry forms for each one a natural progressive series. Individual prayers are the right preparation for the celebration of our social rites, by the regular intermedium of the consecrations that concern us as members of a Family. The Womom, — Since our personal worship is thus made the primary basis of all our religious practices, I beg you, my father, to explain to me directly its real nature. The Priest, — ^It consists, my daughter, in the daily adoration of the best types which we can find to personify Humanity, taking into account the whole of our private relations. The existence of the Supreme Being is founded entirely on love, for love alone unites in a voluntary union its separable elements. Consequently the affective sex is naturally the most perfect representa- tive of Humanity, and at the same time her principal minister. Never will art be able worthily to embody Humanity except in the form of Woman. 120 FIBST PART. But the moral providenoe of our Divinity is not exercised solely by the action of your sex collectively upon mine. This its fundamental office is a conse- quent of the personal influence that every true woman constantly exerts in the bosom <3i her own family. The domestic sanctuary is the continual source of the holy impulse which can alone preserve us from the moral corruption to which we are exposed in active or speculative life. The collective action of woman upon man must have its root in private life, or it will be found to have no perma* nent effect. It is within the £ftmily also that we gain the means of rightly appreciating the affective sex ; for no one can know more of that sex than what he gains from the types of it with which he is brought into daily contact You see then how, in the normal state, each man finds in his &,mily circle real gua/rdiom angels, at once the ministers and representatives of Hu- manity. The secret adoration of them strength- ens and developes their continuous influence. It thus tends directly to make us better and happier, by ensuring the gradual predominance of altruism over egoism ; by affording free scope to the former, by controlling the latter. Our just gratitude for benefits already received, thus becomes the natural source of fresh progress. The happy ambiguity of th^ French word, patron, mari^s sufliciently this twofold efficacity of our personal worship. Eor in it each angel must be equally invoked as a protector and as a model. PRIVATE WORSHIP. 121 TJve Womtjm. — This first general view leaves me, my father, quite undecided as to what the personal type is to be. It would seem that we might, with equal reason, choose any one of the leadbg relations of domestic life. Ths Priest — ^We must really, my daughter, duly combine three of them, if we wish the worship of angels to have its full effect. We find in the theory of Positivism an indication of the necessity of this plurality. For we there find that the sympa- thetic instincts are three in number, and each of the three finds a special female influence to corre- spond with it. The mother, the wife, the daughter, must in our worship, as in the existence of which that worship is the ideal expression, develope in us, respectively — ^the mother, veneration; the wife, at- tachment; the daughter, kindness. As for the sister, the influence she exercises has hardly a very distinct character, and she may, in succession, be ocmnected with each of the three essential types. The three together represent to us the three natural modes of human continuity — the past, the present, the future — as also the three degrees of soli- darity which bind us to our superiors, our equals, and our inferiors. But the spontaneous harmony of the three can only be Mly maintained by observing their natural subordination. So the maternal angel must habitually take the first place, yet so that her gentle presidency never impair the force of the other two. This personal worship, as a general rule, has for its 122 FIB8T FABT. object to guide the maturity of each worshipper. At that time one of the three feminine types has most frequently become subjective, whUst another remains objective. The two influences, subjective and ob- jective, are normally mixed, and our homage is more efficacious for the mixture ; for it secures a better combination of strength and clearness of imagery with consistency and purity of feeling. The Womcm. — Your explanation seems to me very satisfactory, yet I feel, my fether, that it leaves a great want as to my own sex. Our moral wants appear neglected. True, tenderness is our special distinction ; yet we can hardly therefore be above the need of some such habitual cultivation of ten* demess as the institution of guardian angels implies. The Priest, — ^You have, my daughter, an easy solution of your difficulty in the plurality of our angelic types. This is the proper way of meeting it, otherwise it would be impossible to overcome it. In fact, the principal angel alone must be common to both sexes. Each sex must borrow from the other the two angels that complete the institution. For the mother has, for both sexes equally, a pre- ponderance, not merely as the main source even of our physical existence, but still more as normally presiding over the whole of our education. The mother, then, is the object of adoration to both sexes. To her your sex must add the worship of the husband and the son, on the same grounds as I have assigned above for the man's worship of the wife and daughter. We need not go further ; the PRIVATE WORSHIP. l23 difference is enough to meet the wants of both sexes. They require a patronage, in the case of woman specially adapted to develope energy ; in the case of man, tenderness. The WoTTUjm, — ^I feel already the strong attrac- tion of this great institution. But I find still in it, my father, two general imperfections. First, why does not it ' use all our private relations % next, is there sufficient allowance made for the too frequent inadequacy of the types in actual life ? The Priest — These two difficulties disappear, my daughter, if you take into account the several sub- ordinate types which have a natural connexion with each of our chief types, from their exciting similar feelings and standing in a similar relation to us. Around the mother we group naturally, first the father^ and sometimes the sister, then the master and protector, over and above any similar relations which may be largely increased in number both within the family and without. Extend the same method to the other two types, and we form a series of objects of adoration, becoming constantly less personal and more general. The result is, a gradual transition, so gradual as to be almost insensible, from private to public worship. This, the normal development, enables us also to supply, as far as possible, any exceptional deficiencies, by substi- tuting, in case of need, in the room of one of the primary types its most prominent subordinate. So we are enabled, subjectively, to re-create the family when it is formed of bad elements. 124 FIRST PART. The Woman, — These remarks complete the subject. It remains for me, my fitther, to ask you for some more precise explanations as to the general system of prayers adapted to this fundamental worship. The Priest, — It requires, my daughter, three daily prayers — on getting up, before going to sleep, and in the midst of our daily occupations whatever they be. The first prayer must be longer and more efficacious than the other two. Each man should begin his day by a due invocation of his angels. This alone can dispose us to the right use habitually of all our powers. In the last prayer, we express the gratitude we owe to them for their protection during the day, and we hope thus to secure its con- tinuance during our sleep. The mid-^y prayer must, for a time, disengage us from the various im- pulses of thought and action, and must carry into both that influence of affection from which they have a tendency to alienate us. The object of these prayers of itself points out their respective times and mode of performanca The first precedes the work of the day ; it takes -place at the domestic altar, arranged so as to revive our best memories, and the attitude is kneeling, the proper attitude of veneration. The last prayer will be said when in bed, and ought, as far as possible, to continue till we fall asleep, in order the better to ensure a calm brain, at the time when we are least protected from evil tendencies. The period for our mid-day prayer cannot be so accurately stated. It must vary with individual convenience. It is, how- PBIYATE WOBSHIP. 125 ever, important that each one should, in his own way, fix it strictly. If he does so, he will find it easier to ensure the frame of mind it requires. ^ The respective length of our three daily prayers is also pointed out by their peculiar object. The morning prayer should be, in general, twice as long as the evening. That at mid-day should be half as long. When our personal worship is completely organized, the chief prayer naturally occupies the first hour of each day. This len^h is requii'ed, because we divide its opening part into two, each as long as the conclusion. We begin with the proper commemoration of the day; then comes that which is appointed for the week. The result is, that we usually divide the morning prayer into three parts of equal length, and in the three we give precedence respectively, first to images, then to signs, and last to feelings. The two other prayers do not admit of the same proportioh between commemoration and effusion. In the morning, efiusion in all lasts only half as long as commemoration. You invert this proportion in the evening, and you equalize the two at mid-day. You will find no difficulty in these minor differences. But I would call your attention to the fact that the total length of our daily worship only reaches two hours, even in the case of those who find it useful during the night to repeat the prayer appro- priate for mid-day. Every Positivist then will devote to his daily personal improvement less time than is now ab- 126 FIBST PABT. sorbed by reading books of no value, or by useless or even pernicious amusements. In prayer alone can any decided progress of our subjective life take place, for in prayer we identify ourselves more and more with the Being we adore. The image of that Being is gradually purified and becomes more clear and vivid as we enter on each new ylsar.of our worship. By these private practices we prepare ourselves to feel aright the awakening of our sym- pathies due to the publicity of our other sacred rite& The moral qualities formed by such habits will, I hope, when combined, enable the rules of sociolatry to overcome, in the best of both sexes, the present coarseness of manners. Men of ordinary and un- cultivated mind still regard as lost, whatever time is not occupied by work in the common sense. Where there is cultivation, there we find a reco- gnition of the inherent value of pure intellectual exertion. But since the close of the Middle Ages^ there has been a general forgetfulness of the direct higher value of moral cultivation properly so called^ We should be half inclined to blush were we to devote to this moral cultivation as much time as the great Alfred allotted it daily, without in any way impairing his admirable activity. To complete this special theory of our daily prayers, I must point out to you that the orna- ments we borrow for it from the esthetic treasures of Humanity, must always be kept subordinate. Nor are they equally divided between the three prayers. By their nature, they are more adapted PRIVATE WOBSHIP. 127 to aid our efifusioiis than oiir commemoration. As such, the aid they give us is more available in the evening than in the morning. But the special purpose of them is, to free us from the necessity of making our mid>day prayer ourselves. We often find this difficult to do; and in this case the effusion with which we end may consist almost entirely in a judicious choice of passages from the poets. When singing and drawing shall have become as familiar as speaking and writing, by the aid of this help from without we shall be more able to meet our internal wants at times when, as is too frequently the case, our best emotions are languid. The Woman. — ^Now that I understand our per- sonal worship, I am endeavouring, my father, to anticipate your exposition by forming a conception of the domestic worship properly so called. But I cannot of myself, as yet, get a satisfactory idea of it. I quite see that the domestic, as well as the personal worship, can institute a constant adoration of the types common to the whole femily. It can also in this, the elementary society, avail itself of the col- lective invocations which in publii; worship are addressed directly to Humanity. These two kinds of religious practices, under the natural priesthood of the head of the feimily, are susceptible, no doubt, of a high moral influence. Still, something is want- ing to stamp on our domestic worship a character quite its own, so as to keep it distinct from the two which it is to connect. 128 FIBST PART. The Priest. — ^We meet this, my daughter^ by the institution of the social sacraments. They distin- guish the domestic worship from the two others. They also form a natural transition. In these sacraments we consecrate each of the sucoessire periods of our private life by connecting it with public life. Hence our nine social sacraments — Presentation, initiation, admission, destination, mar" riage, mattMrity, retirement, troMsfornuUion, and lastly incorporation. They succeed one another in an unbroken series, and form so many preparations by which, during the whole of his objective life, the worthy servant of Humaiiity proceeds, in a gradual course, to the subjective eternity which is idti- mately to constitute him in the strictest sense an organ of the Divinity we worship. The Woman. — ^Within the normal limits of this Catechism you cannot, my father, give me a really complete explanation of all our sacngnents. Still I hope you will be able to give me some idea of each. The Priest — In its first sacrament, my daughter, our religion, the final one, gives a systematic consecration to every birth. To this all previous religions had been instinctively led. The mother and the father of the new scion of Humanity come to present it to the priesthood. The priesthood receives from them a solemn engagement to fit the child for the service of Humanity. This natural guarantee is made more complete by two additional institutions, the germ of which Positivism thinks PRIVATE WOBSHIP. 129 it ah honour to borrow from Catholicism. It deTelopes that germ under the impulse of its social principles. An artificial couple, chosen by the parents, with- the approbation of the priesthood, ensures the new servant of the Supreme Being a fresh protection. That protection is mainly spi- ritual, but at need becomes temporal, and all the special witnesses concur in it. He also receives from his two &niilies two particular patrons, one chosen from among the theoretical, the other from the practical, servants of Humanity. The names he derives from these two he must complete by a third; for at the time of his emancipation he must give himself a third name, selected, as the other two, from among the consecrated representatives of Humanity. In the ancient civilization, this first sacrament was often refused, especially to those who were thought incap^y^le of the destructive activity 'which was then in especial request. But as the constitu- tion of modem society more and more finds a use for natures of every order, the presentation will be almost invariably accepted by the priesthood, allow- ing for certain cases which are too entirely excep- tions to need prevision. The second sacrament bears the name oflniticUian, as marking the first entrance into public life, when the child passes, at the age of fourteen, from its unsys- ^ tematic training under the eye of iti» mother, to the systematic education given by the priesthood. Till that period, the advice of the priest is given solely to 130 FIBST PABT. the parents, whether natural or artificial, to remind them of their essential duties during the first period of childhood. But now, the boy receives himself the advice from the priest, and no longer through, his parents. The aim of that advice is especiaUy, to strengthen his heart against the injurious influ- ences which too often accompany the intellectual training which he is now to underga This second sacrament may be put off, and sometimes refused, though very seldom, if the home education has been very imsuccessful. Seven years later, the young disciple who has been first presented, then initiated^ receives, as the consequence of his whole preparation^ the sacrament of admission. By it he is authorized freely to serve Humanity, whereas hiiJierto he received everything from Humanity and gave nothing in return. In civil legislation we find a constant recognition of the fact that it is necessary to put off, and even to refuse, this emancipation, in the case of those whose extremely defective organization, uncorrected by education, condemns them to perpetual infancy. The priesthood, as more qualified to form an accu- rate judgment, will not shrink from having recourse to measures of equal severity. But the direct con- sequences of their severity must never extend be* yond the spiritual domain. By this third sacrament, the child becomes a servant of Humanity. It does not, however, yet mark out his special career. This wiU often be different frx>m that which it was supposed to be PKIVATE WOBSHIP. 131 whilst his practical apprenticeship, and the educa- tion of his intellect, were proceeding together. He alone is the proper judge on this point; and he must judge on trial of himself for a sufficient length of time. Hence a fourth social sacrament. At the age of twoDty-eight, allowing for a delay — a delay which may be either at his own request or enjoined — the sacrament of destination sanctions his choice of a career. Th^ ol4^wor^p ofii^red us the rudi- ment, as it were, of this institution, confined to the case of the highest functions, in the ordination of priests and the coronation of kings. But Positive religion must always consider every useful profes- sion a fit subject for social institution, with no dis- tinction of public and private. The humblest ser- vants of Humanity will come to receive in her temples, from the hands of her priests, this solemn consecration of their entering on any co-operative function whatsoever. This is the only sacran\ent that admits of being really repeated, though such repetition must be an exception. The Woman. — I imderstand, my father, this series of consecrations prior to marriage, itself to be followed by our four other sacraments. As for marriage, the most important of them all, and which alone gives completeness to the whole series of man's preparation, I already know the main points of the Positivist doctrine. Above all, I sympathize most deeply with the great institution of eternal widowhood, long looked for by the hearts of all true women. I recognise its importance for k2 132 FIRST PART. the fiemiily, and even for the city. But I see besides this, that under no other condition can we suffi- ciently develope our subjective life ; under no other condition can our minds rise to the familiar repre- sentation of Humanity, by means of an adequate personification. All these precious notions had I made almost my own before I became your cate- chumen. I know also that you will return to this subject from another point of view, when explaining the regime. We may then enter on the last series of our consecrations. The Priest, — First however, my daughter, we must settle what is the normal age for receiving the chief social sacrament. As marriage is to follow, and not precede, the choice of profession, men can only be admitted to it so- £eu* as it is a religious ordinance when they have accomplished their twenty-eighth year. The priesthood will even advise the Government to give the head of the femily a legal veto, up to the age of thirty, in order the better to guard against any precipitation in the case of the most important of all our private actions. In the case of women, the sacrament of destination necessarily coincides with that of admission ; for their vocation is always known and happily is uniform. They are therefore . ready for mai'riage at the age of twenty-one, the age best fitted to secure the harmony of the marriage union. These are the lower limits of age, and must not be lowered for either sex, save on very exceptional grounds, which the priesthood must thoroughly PRIVATE WORSHIP. 133 weigh, and take the moral responsibility of sanc- tioning. But in general, the higher limits should not be fixed, though women should almost always marry before twenty-eight, men before thirty-five. This is the rule for married life under its best form. The Womcm, — The first sacrament after marriage seems to me, my father, sufficiently explained by the mere explanation of the term. You had already drawn my attention to the fact, that the full develop- ment of the human organism coincides in time with the completion of the man*s social preparation, nearly at the age of forty-two. I am now thinking only of your sex, for mine is not concerned with the sacrament of maturity. The social function of women is at once too uniform and too fixed to re- quire either of the two consecrations that precede and follow marriage. jTAe Priest — You have succeeded, my daughter, in forming, without any help from me, a right idea of our sixth sacrament. StiU you would hardly be able, if you stopped at this point, to appreciate rightly its peculiar impoi-tance. During the twenty- one years which elapse between the sixth and the seventh sacrament, the man is going through the second period of his objective life, on which alone depends his subjective immortality. Previously, our life is simply a preparation. Naturally we are liable to mistakes, and those sometimes of a serious character, but never beyond reparation. From this time forwards, on the contrary, the faults we commit we can hardly ever repair, whether in reference to 134 FIEST PART. ourselves or to others. It is important, then, that there should be a solemn ceremony when we impose on the servant of Humanitj the responsibility from which he can now no longer shrink. In this cere- mony we must never lose sight of his peculiar function, now clearly determined. The Woman, — ^The next sacrament, so &.r as I see, my father, is simply destined to mark the normal termination of that great period of complete and direct action, of which the sixth consecration marked the beginning. Ths Priest — On the contrary, my daughter, the sacrament of retirement is one of the most august and best determined of our sacraments. You will see that this is so, if you consider the last funda- mental duty which is then discharged by each true servant of Humanity. It is an institution of Posi- tivism, that every functionary, especially every tem- poral functionary, names his successor, subject to the sanction of his superior, and allowing for exceptional cases of moral or mental unworthiness, as I shall shortly explain to you. You see at once that there is no other means of adequately securing the con- tinuity of man's work. When at sixty-three, the citizen comes forward, of his own free will, to renounce active life, as his active powers are exhausted, and to have scope for the future for his legitimate influence as an adviser, he then solemnly exercises this last act of high authority, and by so doing publicly places such under the control of the priestly and popular elements of society. Their PBIVATB WOESHIP. l35 inflaence may lead him to modify bis own action therein. The rich also transmit their office in obedience to the same rules ; and to make their transmission complete^ they hand over at the same time that portion of the capital of the race which forms the stock of the functionary, after he has made provision for his own personal wants. The Womam, — ^Now, my fether, I see the full social bearing of our seventh sacrament I looked on it at first as a kind of feimily festival As for the eighth, I am familiar enough with the true religion to understand of myself in what it consists. It is to be the substitute for the horrible ceremony of the Catholic rituaL Catholicism, free from all jcheck on its anti-social character, openly tore the dying peison from all his human affections, and made him stand quite alone before the judg- ment-seat of God. In our transforrMition, the priesthood mingles the regrets of society with the tears of his fieanily, and shows that it has a just appreciation of the life that is ending. It first secures, where possible, compensation for errors committed, and then it generally holds out the hope of subjective incoi'poration. It must not, how- ever, compromise itself by a premature judgment. The Priest, — Your appreciation, my daughter, of the last objective sacrament is adequate. I will now explain to you the final consecration. Seven years after death, when the passions that disturb the judgment are hushed, and yet the best IKmices of information remain accessible, a solemn 236 FIBST PABT. judgmenti an idea which, in its germ, sodocracy borrows from theocanuej, finally decides the let of each. If the priesthood pronounces for incarpora- twrif it presides over the transfer, with due pomp, of the sanctified remains. They had previonaly been deposited in the burial-place of the dty; they now take their place for ever in the sacred wood that surrounds the temple of Humanity. Every tomb is ornamented with a simple inscription, a bust, or a statue^ according to the degree of honour awarded. 4s to the exceptional caaes of marked tmworthi- ness, the sign pf disgrace consists in transporting, in the proper way, the ill-omened burden to the waste place allotted to the reprobate, amongst those who died by the hand of justice, by their 6wn hand, or in duel. The Woma/n, — ^I hare a clear idea of the nine social sacraments ; but I feel, my father, a regret ajs regards my sex in general. It does not seem to me that we are sufficiently considered. I make no objection to our exclusion from three of these con- secrations. . Such exclusion is natural, and rests on grounds which are in the highest degree honourable to women. Their life is quieter, and requires thercr fore less attention on the part of religion. But I caimot conceive why the subjective paradise should be closed against those whom our religion proclaims most qualified to merit admission, I do not, how- ever, see how women should, as a general rule, have this individual incorporation ; for it must, in all case^ PRIVATE WORSHIP. 137 it seems to me, be the result of a public'life ; whereas public life is wisely forbidden our sex, except in very rare cases. „ The Friest, — You will supply, my daughter, this serious defect, when you consider that the incorpora- tion of the man includes all the worthy auxiliaries of every true servant of Humanity, not even excepting the animals who have contributed their aid. The most important duty of woman is to form and perfect man. It would be, then, as absurd as it would be unjust to honour a good citizen, and neglect to honoiir the mother, the wiib, to whom his success was mainly due. Around, and at times within, each consecrated tomb, the priesthood will be bound to collect, in the name of Humanity, all the individuals who helped its inmate, *while alive, to perform the services she rewards. Your sex, by its superior organization, can taste more keenly the pure enjoyment that results from the mere growth and exercise of good feelings; but it should not, therefore, renounce its claim to just praise — much less should it renounce the subjective immortality whose value it so thoroughly appreciates. The Woman, — This explanation completes your previous ones. It remains for me, my father, to ask you, wherein lies the obligation for each to re- ceive our different sacraments 1 The Priest, — ^They must always, my daughter, be purely optional, so far as any legal obligation is concerned. They bind a man; but they bind him 138 FIBST PABT. with a simply moral obligation, the existence of which is proved by our education and sanctioned by opinion. The better to preserve this their purely spiritual character, on which more than anything else they depend for their efficiency, our sacraments mustggiot be the only ones accessible. Side by side with them there shoidd be parallel institutions, estar- blished and maintained by the temporal power, and these last alone can be eufgrced in every case. The judgment of the temporal power, less discrimi* nating and less strict, will dispense with the reli- gious rites tn the case of those who may feel alarm ' at them, and who yet can render society services / which it would be a pity to lose or impair. ' " ■"For instance, we must not look on civil marriage as an anarchical institution, though it is of revolu* tionary origin. It is to be regarded as the ' neces- sary preliminary for a religious marriage, and it may dispense legally with this latter. The con- trary custom was the result of an usurpation on the part of Catholicism, which Positivism will 'never imitate. Those who shrink from the law of widow- hood, essential to the performa^Lce of a Positivist marriage, must contract a civil union, to preserve them from vice and secure the legal rights of their children. The same holds good, though in a less degree, for most of our social sacraments, especially for admission and destination. The priesthood ought, in case of need, to urge the Government to institute legal rules with the object of moderating fUBLIC WOESHIP. 139 the just strictness of our religious prescriptions. The observance of our sacraments will never be en- forced, nor will it ever have any other reward than that of conscience and opinion. CONVEKSATION V. PUBLIC WORSHIP. Tke Woman. — ^We ai;e now entering on the direct Btudj of our pubhc worship. I must, at the outset, submit to you, my father, the answer which I have given of myself to criticisms which i have heard directed against the whole of our solemn adora* tions. Superficial but honest, such critics urge that e^ch Positivist is in fact glorifying himself when h© is paying honour to a being which is of neces- sity composed of its own worshippers. Our private worship is in no way open to this r^roach. It can only apply to the direct worship of Humanity, especially where that worship takes the shape of a collective homage. We can meet it by stating the true idea of the Supreme Being. Humanity Is, in the main, composed of subjective existences, of the dead, not of the living. They who testify their gratitude to her, are fti no way certain, as a general rule, of being finally incorporated into her. All that they have is the hope of this reward. They expect to deserve it by a worthy life, the judgment on which, however, always rests with their suc- cessors. 140 FIRST PABT. ^ > The Priest, — In setting your objectors right, you have kept close, my daughter, to the true spirit of our public worship. In it, the present glorifies the past, m order tbe better to prepare the future. The present disappears naturally in presence of these two immensities. Far from raising our pride, our solemn prayers have a constant tendency to inspire us with a true humility; for they make us pro- foundly conscious to what a degree, spite of our best collective efforts, we are incapable of ever paying to Humanity any but the very smallest part of that which she has given us. Ths Woman, — ^Before you explain the general outline of our public worship, would you, my father, give me an idea of the temples in which it is to be performed ? As for the ministering priest- hood, I am aware that the essential features of its constitution will be clearly pointed out when we come to the regime, . ThePtieat, — We cannot at present, my daughter, form an adequate conception of the temples of Positivism. Architecture is the most technical and the least esthetic of all the fine arts; so that each fresh synthesis finds its architectural expression more difficult than any other. Our religion must be not only thoroughly work^ out, but also widely spread, before the public wants can show what shape the edifices required must take. Provision- ally, then, we shall have to use the old churches, in proportion as they fall into disuse. This prelimi- nary period ought^ in our case, not to be so long as ^ JdBLlC WORSHIP. 141 f it was for Catholicism, which for many centuries wa.s confined to buildings of Polytheistic origin. The only general points that can at present be settled in this respect are, the situation and direc- tion of the buildiiJg. These are determined by the nature of the Positive worship. Humanity is, in the main, composed of such dead as are worthy of a future life, so^that her temples must be in the centre of the tombs of the elect. On the other hand, the chief attribute of Positive religion is its necessary universality. Everywhere, then, in all parts of the earth, th% temples of Humanity must turn towards the general metropolis. This, for a long time, as the result of past history, must be Paris. In this manner Positivism turns to account the idea, of which we find the rudiment in the Kebla of Islamism. We institute, as the Mahome- tans did, a common attitude for all true believers, and so bring into fuller light the touching solidarity of our free worship. ^ So fiir only can I go as to our sacred buildings. As for their internal arrangement, all we need at present attend to is the necessity of keeping the chief sanctuary for women duly chosen. So may the Priests of Humanity be always surrounded by those who are her befl^ representatives. Tha Woman, — Your last remark leads me, my father, to complete my former question, by asking you what are to be the symbols of our Divinity ? As it is within the province of painting and sculpture to give them a definite form, that shape may be 142 FIRST PART. .. eafiier to appreciate than the construction of, our temples, as the two first arts of form are more rapid in their progress than the third. The Priest. — The nature of our Supreme Being really leaves, my daughter, no openrug. even, now for hesitation as to the plastic representation of her. In painting or in sculpture, equally, the symbol of our Divinity will always be a woman of the age of thirty, with hr son in her arms. The pre-eminence, • religiously consiGft.^red, of the affective sex, ought to be the principal feature in our emblematic repre- sentation, whilst the activd^y^ei must remain under her holy guardianship. Gro'^ps with more figures might render the symbolic f^s^esentation more complete, but in such groups it wouM lose too much of its synthetic character to come int^^d^^ily use. Of the two modes which are -adapk©^ ^^r the expression of this normal symbol, sciifc*^"^ is suitable for the image fixed in each templei ^^ ^^^ midst of the women chosen as above men1Sp^®^>^ and behind the sacred desk. But painting is ^re- ferable for the moveable banners to be carr^^ before us in our solemn processions. On tU^ white side will be the holy image ; on their gree^ the sacred formula of Positivism. This green sideVy will be turned towards the pr^ession. \ The Woman, — ^As the last of my introductory questions, would you, my father, explain the sign which in ordinary use may represent the charac- teristic formula of Positivism 1 The Priest, — We get this sign, my daughter, from PUBLIC WOKSHIP. 143 ^ our cerebral theor^^ as I shall explain when we study onr doctrine. When we repeat our funda- mental formula, we may place our hand in succes- sion on the three chief organs — those of love, order, and progress. The two first adjoin one another; the last is only separated from the other two by the organ of, veneration, the natural cement of the whole they together form ; so that the gesture may be continuous. When the habit is formed, we need not repeat the words — ^the gesture is enough. In the end, as the order by the cerebral organs indi- cates their functions, we may, in case of need, re- duce the sign to the simple mention, one after the other, of the numbers which represent those organs in our synopsis (0). So, without any arbitrary in- stitution. Positivism is already in possession of a sign for common use, more expressive than any of those adopted by Catholicism and Islamism. The TTowiow.-— Now, my father, I ought no longer to delay your entering on the direct explanation of the system of public worship. The Priest — ^You will find it, my daughter, fully expressed in the synopsis I here offer ybu. * {Table Ay cU the end of volume.) Our worship, like its predecessors, has two objects : these two are — to make us better understand, and better live the life which it repi'esents. We first, then, idealize the fundamental ties which constitute our existence ; secondly, the preparatory stages essential to it ; lastly, the functions of its various organs in the normal state. Such are to be respectively the 144 PIBST PART. objects of the three systemB of monthly festivAls which fill up the Positivist year. That year is con- sequently divided into thirteen months, of four weeks each, with one complementary day set apart as the Festival of the Dead. You already know the four fundamental classes — the affective, speculative, patrician, and plebeian class — ^which are essential to society in its normal form. As for the preparatory stages, we could not without confusion condense them more than we have done, so profound are the differences, both intellectual and social, which must always distin- guish fetichism, polytheism, and monotheism, even in the spontaneous initiation of every Positivist. With regard to the primary relations which are the bonds of society, we must begin by celebrating the most universal We then honour, in tum^ each of the private affections which alone can ensure the first a real consistency. These elementary rela- tions are really five in number — marriage, the rela- tion of parent to child, of child to parent, that of brothers, and the domestic relation, or that of master and servant — and we rank them, in obedience to our hierarchical principle, by their inorease in point of generality, their decrease in intimacy. The number of months in the Positivist year has at first sight an appearance of paradox. It is sanc- tioned by a correct estimate of the religious grounds on which it rests. Bepeated experience has, more- over, shown that there will be no difficulty in intro- ducing it simultaneously with the fiiith. Again, ' PUBLIC WOESHIP. 145 the TJniyersal religion alone can secure regalaritj in point of time by its exact division of each month into four periods of a week each. However great the practical advantages of such an an*angement, it . would not be adopted, were it not that our worship \ does not allow us to hesitate, as mere material reasons would do. The W ;paration, from the first forward movement of the .smallest tribes down to the twofold development of "the modern stage of transition* This full celebra- tion of the past of man, in twelve weekly festivals, is the result of the historical condensation which the abstract worship by its nature allows. The Wo9ncm,-^We can now then, my father, enter on the last series of our social festivals. The month dedicated to women, or the moral providence of the race, offers me no difficulty, for I see the dearly- marked distinction between the types chosen from PUBLIC WOBSHIP. 155 women to represent its fonr weekly festivals. But I am at a loss as yet as to the division of the sacerdotal montL The Priest, — Take for your guide, my daughter, the different forma or degrees of the Positive priest- hood, ranked according to their increasing complete- ness. This great ministry calls for a rare union of moral qualities, both those of action and of affection, with intellectual ability, both for art and science. If this last alone is remarkable, its possessors, after proper cultivation, must be, perhaps for ever, mere pensionaries of the spiritual power ; they must never aspire to be incorporated into it. In these eases, which are fortunately exceptional, the finest genius for poetry or philosophy cannot supply the place of tenderness and energy in a functionary who must, habitually feel the warmest sympathy, and who has offcen to engage in difficult struggles. This incomplete form of priesthood allows for the due cultivation of all true talent without endangering the service of society. As for the complete priesthood, the first requisite is a preparatory stage, beyond which the candidate will not proceed, i^ in spite of his announcement of his vocation, he does not successfully pass through the proper novitiate. After this decisive trial, at thirty-five he obtains directly and definitively the priesthood But during seven years he must remain in the subordinate position which marks the vicar or substitute. When he has duly gone through all the steps of our encyclopedic teaching, and, within 156 FIBBT PABT. certain limits, performed the other fonctions of the priest, he reaches, at the age of forty-two, the chief degree ; he then becomes irrevocably a priest in the fullest sense. Such are the fomr classes of the theo- retical body, honoured respectively in the four weekly festivals of the eleventh month. The Woman. — ^The next month, my £i,ther, re- quires no particular explanation. I am not familiar with active life, but the definiteness which charao- terizes it enables me fully to understand the normal division of the patrician body into four essential classes, ranked on the principle of the decreasing generality of their functions and the increaaing number of functionaries. Perhaps even, in our anarchical period, women are better qualified than the proletaries, and still more than their teachers, to appreciate rightly this natural hierarchy. For they are more thoroughly preserved from the dis- turbing influences of passion, and from sophistical views. I am glad, then, that the four weekly festivals of our twelfth month yearly honour, and, by honouring, give a moral character to these four different and necessary forms of the material power on which rests the whole economy of society. But I am not so clear as to the divisions of the last month. The Priest, — ^That division depends, my daughter^ on the character of generality which attaches natu- rally to the proletariate, in which all the great attributes of Humanity require a distinct ideal expression* This immense social body, the necea* ' PUBLIC WOBSfilP. 157 saiy stock of all q)ecial classes — is mainly devoted to active life, and active life is the direct object of the first weekly festival of the plebeian month. Next to the active proletariate, we must pay a separate tribute to the affective proletariate, which is its necessary accompaniment. Without this special tribute to the women of the proletary class, the general celebration of the types of women remains incomplete; for in the tenth month we considered them from a point of view which em- braced all classes — ^here they are viewed in especial reference to their popular action. The third festival of our thirteenth month must find fit means for duly honouring the contemplative class of proletaries; especially those who are ar- tistic, or even scientific. They have not been able to gain admission into a priesthood whose numbers must of course be limited, and yet they feel them- selves more adapted to theory than practice. We shall have at times to pity these exceptional types; in all cases we must respect them : so only can we make them properly useful by wisely guiding their natural tendencies. From them principally must come the general control exercised by the prole- tariate over the special depositaries of power, whereas the impulse which the same body ought to give requires men of a more active nature. Finally, the last festival of our popular month honours mendicity, whether temporary or perma- nent. Improve society to the utmost, still you never reach the point where this, the extreme con- 158 I1B8T PART. sequence of tbe peculiar imperfections of practical life, shall cease. So the ideal expression of our social state would be incomplete unless the priesir^ hood closed it by the just appreciation of this ex- ceptional form of existence. Where there is ade- quate justification and proper conduct, such an ex- istence deserves the sympathy, at times even the praise, of all honourable minds. More fi actuating than any other, this complementary class naturally connects with all ranks of society. They must in time draw from it and feed it. It thus becomes well qualified to develop the general influence of the proletariate on all the powers of society. It would then be as great an act of improvidence as of injustice not to give mendicants a sepai^ate notice in our idealization. The W The object of that restriction was, definitely to express the spontaneous character of our mental dispositions. Leibnitz* addition, except the understanding, limited in reality to the clearer development of Aristotle's maxim, was completed by Kant, Kant intro- duced the distinction, never to be forgotten, between objective and subjective reality, both equally appli- cable to all man's conceptions. Still the principle had not received its full systematic value. Posi- tivism gave it that value by connecting it with the general law which, in all vital phenomena, considers every organism as in a constant dependence on the sum of external influences. With regard to our highest spiritual functions, equally as with regard to our most corporeal ones, the external world serves us both for nourishment, stimulus, and control. So viewed, the subordination of the subjective to the ''•bbjective no longer stands isolated, and at the same time Positive Philosophy supplies its necessary complement, without which the study, from the statical point of view, of our intellect, could not have been brought into really close connexion with the dynamical. The complement I mean, consists in recognising the fact that, in the normal state, our subjective conceptions are always less vivid and less clear than the objective impressions from which they rise. Were it otherwise, the world without could exert no controlling influence over the world within. V THE DOCTRIKE. 167 (S.rry out these two statical principles, and you see tl^t all our conceptions whatever are the neces- sary result of an uninterrupted intercourse between the world and man, the world supplying the mate- rials, man shaping them. They aife* deeply stamped with the relative character, relative both to the subject and the object. As these vary respectively, so necessarily are the conceptions modified. Our great merit, in the scientific point of view, consists in bringing this natural subordination of man to the world to the highest point of perfection. At this point, the brain becomes the fiiithful mirror of the actual order of outward things, and the future consequences of that order then admit of prevision, if the powers of the mind are rightly exercised. But the representation of the outward order is not, and is not required to be, absolutely exact. The degree in which it approximates to perfect exactness is determined by our practical wants. They give us the standard of precision desirable for our theoretical previsions. Within this necessajy limit, there' is generally left for .our intellect^a certain degree of liberty in speculation. This liberty it should use to secure adequate satis- faction for its own inclinations, whether in the direction of science, or even of the fine arts. This it may do by giving to our conceptions greater regularity, greater beauty even, without in any degree interfering with their truth. Such is, under it» mental aspect. Positivism. It is always occupied with the pursuit of laws. It holds its way between 168 SECOND PAto. two paths of equal danger, that of mysticism^ which insists on arriving at causes ; that of empi-^ ricism, which insists on a rigid adherence to these facts. The TTonion:,— There seems to me, my father, one serious omission in this statical theory of man's intellect. It seems solely to have reference to the state of reason properly so called. It does not seem capable of embracing madness; and yet it ought to explain this not less than the other. Actual life, as we daily see it, offers us so many nicely shaded degrees between these' two states of mind, that all the cases ought to obey the same laws essentially. The only difference ought to be one of degree, as in the case of our bodily fnnc« tions. The Priest, — ^A more attentive consideration of the doctrine set forth will enable you, my daughter, to see that it does really contain the true theory of madness and ofidiocy. These are two extreme states of the mind, and each violates the due pro- portion which the sound state, or reason, requires to exist between the objective impressions ^and the subjective conceptions. Idiocy consists in the excess of objectivity. In it our brain is too passive. Madness, properly so called, consists in the excess of subjectivity, and is the consequence of an undue activity of the brain. The mean state itself in which reason consists, varies according to the regular variations to which human existence in every foim is subject, whether it be the society or the individual; THE DOCTRINE. 1 69 ('"'Vb form, a sound judgment on madness is a most^ ! delicate operation, the more so as we muBt take ^> into account time and place, and generally difference of situation, as is so clearly shown by the admirable \ composition of the great CervaiAes. It is in ', reference to madness that we gain the clearest per- 1 caption of the extent to which the statical study of i the intellect remains incomplete, if it do notA^ceive ithe complement of the dynamical study. \ The Woman. — I would follow up this striking ^reflection, my &ther, and if you think proper, I Would At once eni^er on this dynamical study, as the complement of the statical. For it appears, ^hat without it I cannot by my own meditatiotts fbrm a proper cbnception of the whole of th^^eat s|)eotacle offered me by the intellect. The opinions of men may vary, but it can never in any case be to the degree of becoming purely arbitrary, though li may not be able in any way to trace their general line of march. ■ The Priest, — Every theoretical conception passes necessarily through three successive stages. The first is th% theological, or fictitious. The second, metaphysical, or abstract. The third, positive, or real. The first is always provisional The second simply transitional. The third albne is definitive. The difference of this last from the two former is qharacterized by its substitutionof ther^tive_for the absolute, when^at length the study of laws has taken the place of the in ceptions, but the order ultimately observed by all events whatsoever^ Thus the law of classification is entirely distinct from that of filiation. The simultaneous discovery of the two is sufficiently explained by their close connexion. Before I enter on my exposition of this great theoretical hierarchy, I must draw out with suf- ficient accuracy the general limits of its extent. These limits are/ in reality, fixed by the true philo- sophical distinction between speculation and action^ Action must, of necessity, always be special ; true theory is always general But it never can acquire this, its proper chantcter of generality, except by the aid of a previous abstraction, which always more or less impairs the reality of its conceptions. The fiict that this is impaired may have great danger in practice. We must resign ourselves however to this evil, to secure the coherence which can only be secured by our laws of theory keeping this character of absolute universality. It is a maxim of common sense, that every rule has its ex- ception. Still, our intellect always stands in need of universal rules, as the only means of avoiding an indefinite vacillation. The only way of attaining this is to break up, as far as possible, the study of beings, which alone can generally be objects of direct study, into several separate studies. The object of these will then be THE BOCTBIKE. 177 the various general events, wich compose the ex- istence of each being. Bj this method we obtain abstract laws, which we can combine. And their difrei*ent combinations then explain each concrete existence. These laws are vfery numerous, but they admit of no reduction, and they are the only accessible source of speculative wisdom. But nu- merous as they are, they are much less numerous than the special rules which depend on them. These last, putting aside their number, will from their natural complication defy all^our best efforts, either for induction or deduction. But on the other hand, to know them would be really useless, except in the rare cases in which they influence our destiny.' For these exceptional cases the genius of practical men, the only competent authority in such matters, may always And empirical rules sufficient for its guidance, by avail^g itself of the general indications furnished by the philosophical class. The compound events in question are really subject to regular laws. This is a necessary consequence of the position, that the general elements of which they are compounded are subject to such laws. It may not be so easy to see it in the former case as in the latter, but it is a &ict, as observation will show, if directed on the point for a sufficient length of time. For instance, we shall never know the general laws of the variations peculiar to the regular con- stitution of the atmosphere. Yet the sailor and the agriculturist can, from their observations of the N 178 SECOND PART. locality or the weather, draw special rules, which, though empirical, supersede any necessity for the so-called science of meteorology. The case is the same with all the other concrete branches of i«iuJ*-^ such as geology, zoology, and even sociology. What- ever is inaccessible to the practical genius of man will always remain a matter of mere idle curiosity. Science then, in its proper sense, is necessarily ab- stract. The general laws it establishes for the few categories under which all observable phenomena may be brought, are sufficient to demonstrate the existence of concrete laws, though most of such laws neither can nor need be known, except for practical purposes. The Womcm, — I catch a glimpse, my father, of the very great simplification allowed in your philo- sophical construction by this fundamental ^analysis, which recalls us from tl^ study of beings to that of events. But I feel frightened at the constant abstraction required by such a scientific regime, though fortunately I am exempt from it. It seems to me beyond the power of man's intellect, if all phenomena, of all orders, are to be directly studied in the Great Being in whom alone we find them all combiiied. The Priest — ^For your comfort, my daughter, we will consider, under a new aspect, the general prin- ciple of the hierarchy of abstract science. Directly, it establishes only the subordination of events ; in« directly, it sliould lead to that of beings. For phenomena are only more general by virtue of their THE DOCTRINE. 179 belonging to more numerous orders of existence. The simplest of all are found everywhere, but we Toi-K^ study them in beings, where they are the only di^e"»iire can study, and where therefore their study is more easy. In strict truth, the first step in theory can never be taken distinct from the second. This, more than the actual nature of the phenomena, is especially the cause of the increase in complica- tion. But whatever be the amount of the succes- sive accumulations, each fresh category of events may be studied in beings independent of all the succeeding categories, though they are dependent on. the preceding. The previous knowledge of these will enable us to concentrate our attention on the new class brought under our notice. Even sup- posing the beings indivisible, yet, if they exist in different states, the Positive method will keep, in greatest part, its efficiency, and this condition can- not fail, by the very nature of the classification adopted. Thus the theoretical hierarchy that I am going to set forth, though its original purpose was to ftimish a scale of phenomena^ necessarily consti- tutes the true scale of beings, or, at any rate, of existences. It becomes by turns abstract or con- crete, according as its purpose is subjective or ob- jective. This is the reason why the encyclopedic subordination of the arts essentially coincides with that of the sciences. The Worrum. — Before you proceed, my father, to the exposition of this hierarchy, the general principle of which I begin to see, would you explain ' n2 . 180 SECOND PART. to me the general outline of our course 1 To cement the union which fundamentally exists between the world and man, it would seem that it might take either as its starting point, whilst the other should be its end. The habitual use of such a method seems even to require that it should be able, like every other scale, to become indifferently an ascend- ing or descending one. But perhaps this general principle does not hold good in our construction. The Priest. — The regular concurrence of these two methods, the one objective, the other sub- jective, is no less necessary, my daughter, in form- ing, lian in applying, the hierarchy of science. The process of its spontaneous elaboration depended on the first; its systematic institution requires the second. The initiation of each individual must, in this as in every other important point, be essentially the reproduction of the evolution of the race, with this exception, that for the future we shall do con- sciously what was formerly done blindly. It is only by combining these two methods, that we can se- cure the advantages of both and neutralize their dangers. To ascend from the world up to man, without having previously descended from man to the world — such a course renders you liable to the excessive cultivation of the lower branches of study, by putting out of sight their real scientific destina- tion. Our scientific efforts are in this case wasted on university follies, as adverse to the intellect as to the heart. The right connexion of the whole, and the proper estimation of the several parts, are THE DOCTKINE. 181 sacrificed to reality and clearness. Still, this was the course necessarily adopted by abstract Positivism, during the long scientific introduction which begins with Thales and Pythagoras and ends with Bichat and Gall. It was necessary, in order to elaborate in succession the different sciences : the materials, that is, for our ultimate systematization. During that period, the higher wants of our intellect re- ceived but an imperfect satisfaction, under its heterogeneous guardians, theology and metaphysics. But at the present day, when the principle of an universal synthesis is definitively established, as the result of this immense preparatory movement, the subjective method, become at last as positive as the objective, must itself take a direct initiative in our encyclopedic construction. We must look to it to originate the construction, the other must work it out. And this rule is as applicable to each great branch of scientific research, as it is to the whole system of the sciences. The Womcm. — You see me then ready, my father, to follow you as you show how the doctrine of Humanity gives a religious sanction to each of the several essential branches of abstract science, as they successively come forward ; and how, by bring- ing them all into connexion, it gives strength to the highest and ennobles the lowest. The Priest. — ^To get a more adequate conception of ihia synthesis, you must, my daughter, remember at the outset the constant end of human life. That end is to preserve and to perfect the Great Being, 182 SECOND PABT. whom we must at once know, love, and server \ Each, of his own spontaneous action, accomplished these three offices. Religion systematizes them"B^^ its doctrine, its worship, its life. The philosophical ! construction is necessarily prior to the two others; it is, however, ultimately destined to consolidate ; th%m and to develope them. In itself, the study of Humanity is as liable to degenerate as the lower . sciences are, if we forget that the only object of our j knowing her is that we may love her more and i serve her better. If we suffer ourselves to be ( diverted by the means £rom a due appreciation of, ; or care for, the end, our systematic growth becomes j really of less value than the natural growth of; mankind in general Thus you see why, at the highest point of the ) encyclopedic scale, I place Moral Science, or the Science of the individual Man. The functions of ^ the Great Being require for their exercise, ulfci- ' mately, individual organs. These organs must be > studied, therefore, at the outset, in order that the ' service they owe may be properly rendered during the period of their objective existence. On the due • rendering of this service will depend their subjec- tive influence. Under this form. Positivism adopts • and strengthens the primary precept of the primi- • tive theoci-acy : know thyadf, to better thyself. In Positivism, the intellectual principle and the social motive act in concert. As a fact, Morals, the most useful of all the sciences, is also the most complete, or rather it is the only one w^qh is complete. THE DOCTRINE. 183 since its phenomena subj actively embrace' all the other, though, by that very fact, they are objectively subordinate to those others. The fundamental principle of the scientific hierarchy gives a direct predominance to the moi'al point of view as the most complicated and special. But at this point, the philosophical conformity of Positivism with theology necessarily ceases. Theo- logy, always occupied with the study of causes, placed the study of morals under the immediate control of the supernatural principles by which it explained everything. Moral observation became thus solely the obser^ ration of oneself. And a sanction was given to our personality or selfishness. For we were brought each of us into direct connexion with an infinite power, and thus isolated entirely from our race. Positivism, on the other hand, never seeks for a law but as a guide for action, is always in its very essence social, and bases moral science far more on the observation of others than of oneself, with the view of forming conceptions on moral subjects which shall be at once real and usefuL If so, we may feel how impossible it is properly to enter on the study of morals without a previous study of society. In all respects, each of us depends entirely on Hu- manity, especially with regard to our noblest func- tions. These are always dependent on the time and place in which we live, as you are reminded by the fine verses in Zaire — 184 SECOND PABT. J*eu8se 4i6f pr^s du Gange, e^ kve des firax dieux, Chr^tienne dans ParU, Musulmane en ces lienx. I had been, by the Ganges, the slave of false gods, Christian in Paris, Mussulman where I am. Thus you see how it is that Morals^ to which we assign the highest rank^ proceed at once to insti- tute SociOLOOY. The phenomena of the latter science are both simpler and more general, as we should expect, looking to the general spirit of the Positive Hierarchy. The Woman. — Allow me, my &ther, to stop you a moment at this step. It seems to me to myolve a contradiction between the two conditions of your classification, a contradiction I should wish solved. The case before us seems to me an exception to our rule ; the phenomena seem to become at once more complicated and more general. I have always thought the moral point of view simpler than the social one. ITie Priest, — That is solely, my daughter, because you have hitherto proceeded on feeling rather than on reason. For Morals must, for your sex, be rather an art than a science. If we were to compare the two sciences merely with reference to the number of cases they respectively embrace, you would see that the number of individuals is greater than that of nations. It is this last, however, which absorbs your attention. But, limiting our- selves to the complication inherent in each science, considered in itself, you forget that moral science must take Into account the same influences as social THE DOCTBINE. 185 sdence does, and tbat i|fer and above these it must appreciate impulses which social science may set aside as inappreciable. I mean the influences of the mutual action of the physical and moral nature of man — an action which is constant, though its la'ws are as yet too little known. They have great influence on the individual, but sociology pays no particular attention to them, and for this reason : the opposite results produced in d^erent indivi- duals cancel' one another when you come to con- sider nations. But if, on the contrary, in our moral judgment we should neglect such mutual action, we should be liable to the most serious mistakes ; we might attribute to the soul what proceeds from the body, or vice verad, a matter of daily occurrence. " The Woman. — I now see, my father, what I did not see, and therefore stopped you at the outset of your hierarchical series. Would you now return to it ? You need not fear any further interruption till the end, for any interruption would prevent my master- ing the general filiation. The Priest — Your objection, my daughter, was in itself a very natural one, and it answers the pur- pose, in the present case, of bringing into greater prominence our first step in the encyclopedic con- struction. This first step is the type necessaiily of all the others. We shall be able to get over those others joiore easily, as is the case with any scale whatever. I hope that you will fin'd no difficulty in descending from one science to the next. We 186 SECOND PABT. take as our guide the principle which has jost led us from moral to social science j we look, that is, to the natural subordination of the respective pheno- mena of the two sciences under consideration. This fundamental principle makes you feel at once, that, for the systematic study of society, you require a previous knowledge of the general laws of life. As nations are beings gifted in an eminent degree with life, the natural result is, that the order of life governs that of society. The statical con- dition of society, and its dynamical progress, would be deeply impaired, were the constitution of our brain or even of our body to change in any notice- able degree. In this case, the simultaneous increase in point of generality and simplicity admits of no doubt. Thus sociology, which was constituted by moral science, constitutes in its turn BiOLoaT, which has, moreover, direct relations with the master science. Biology studies life only in so &r as it is common to all the beings which enjoy it. Animals, therefore, and plants, form its proper province, though it is ultimately destined for the service of man. The true study of man, however, it can only sketch in a rude outline. From this point of view. Biology, if wisely pursued, is occu- pied with the study of our bodily functions by the light derived from the study of animals and plants. In these, the bodily functions are seen cleared of ail higher complications. This direction given to Biology for logical purposes, may at times tend to ex- pose it to an academic degeneracy. It may be led THE DOCTRIKE, 187 to lay too much stress on insignificant beings or acts. If so, philosophy must step in with its dis- cipline to recall it to its true vocation. But it must not fetter the inquiries indispensable to its success. These first three sciences are so closely connected that I make the name of the middle one stand for the whole, in the encyclopedic system, which I have arranged in a tabular form {see Flate B, cut the end of Coitechism), to render it easy for you to judge the general scheme of the Positive hier- archy. For sociology may be easily looked on as absorbing into itself biology, as its introduction; morals, as its conclusion. When the word Anthro- pology shall be in more common and sounder use, it will be a better name for the three sciences which collectively have man as their object, as its literal meaning is the %tvdy of mom. But for a long time it will be necessary to use the word Sociology, in order to mark the principal characteristic supe- riority of the new intellectual regime, which con- sists most particularly in the introduction into our encyclopedic construction of the social point of view, regarded as absolutely alien by the earlier ^m thesis. Living beings are of necessity. bodies, and as such, spite of their greater complication, they always obey the more general laws of matter. These laws exercise an invariable predominance over all the peculiar phenomena of living beings, leaving them, however, their spontaneous action. A third step towards 188 SECOND PART. our encyclopedia, in perfect analogy with the pre- ceding ones, places biology, and consequently social and moral science, in dependence on the gre^t science of inorganic matter to. which I have given the name of Cosmology. The real domain of this science is the general study of the planet on which man lives, the necessaxy sphere of all the higher ftmctions, vital, social, and moral. A better name would then be Geology y for this conveys the required meaning directly. But our academical anarchy has 80 destroyed the njatural sense of the word that Posi- tivism must renounce its use, until, as will shortly be the case, the pretended science to which it is applied be got rid of off the list. Wten that is < the case, we shall be able to follow more closely the laws of language, and apply to the whole study of inorganic beings a more exact denomination, — one which by its concrete nature is calculated better to remind us that we ought to study each existence in its least complicated form. This should be the limit of my encyclopedic operation, and there should be no decomposition of cosmology, had I in view only the final state of man's reason. In that final state the inferior sciences must be kept in narrower bounds, the higher have their bounds enlarged. But at present I must provide for the special wants of the initia- tion of the West We shall find essentially similar wants recur in the development of each individual. For these two reasons, I feel bound to divide cosmo- logy into two fundamental sciences. The first of THE DOCTRINE. 189 ^ tt^e, under the general name of Physics, has for its object the direct study of the whole order of matter. The other, simpler and more general, has justly received the name of Mathematics. It is the necessary basis 'of Physics, and, as such, of the whole scientific edifice. It is so as it treats of the most universal form of existence, viewed in relation solely to the phenomena which are found every- where. Without this division of cosmology, it would be diJficult to form* a right conception of the spontaneous development of Positive Philosophy. This could only begin by such a study as that of Mathematics, and the greater rapidity with which * it grew to perfection, caused it at first to be con- sidered as 'the only science. Its name reminds us too strongly of this privilege which it originally enjoyed, but which it has long lost. Still the name should be kept. It should not be changed till the type of scientific and logical study which mathe- matics give has exercised a due control over the general diffusion of our encyclopedic laws. When they are generally admitted, then some less vague and better constructed term may be introduced. It should be so chosen as to point out the true domain of the science, and to act as a systematic check on the blind scientific ambition of those who cultivate it in too exclusive a spirit. Be this as it may, you must feel the necessity of descending as £a,r as mathematics to find a natural basis for the encyclopedic scale — a basis which can make the whole system appear but the gradual development 190 SECOND PART. of the good sense of mankind. Physics are fkr simpler than the other sciences, but yet not simple enough. The special inductions of physics cannot be reduced to a fjystem without the aid of more general deductions. This is everywhere else the case, only in physics this logical and scientific want forces itself less on the attention. It is only in mathematics that you can proceed to induction without previous deduction. This is a consequence of the extreme simplicity of the phenomena which form the domain of mathematics. In it the pro- cess of induction often escapes notice ; so much so, that our academic geometricians look on them as deductions. So viewed, they are unintelligible, as there is no source to which you can Tefer them. There is no possibility of forming convictions really proof against attacks, except they are based ulti- mately on mathematics, the eternal foundation of Positive Philosophy. Mathematics will always ne- cessarily be the last link in the chain of the sciences ; the last step of that subjective connexion, guided by which every man of sound intellect and honest heart will at any time be able, as I have just done, to evolve the fundamental series, the- five principal steps of our encycledopic construction. - The Woman, — It is to the influence of feeling upon the intellect to which you have just alluded that I attribute, my father, the ease I find in following you in your construction, so dreaded by me at the outset. The attention of my sex is con- stantly riveted on morality, as the only solid \m\^ THE DOCTRINE. 191 for the influence it claims as its due. We shall ali^ays therefore set a high value on securing a systematic foundation for morality, a foundation capable of resisting the sophisms of bad passions. ^bove all, at the present day, #e 'are struck with terror at the moral ravages attributable to the., intellectual anarchy. It threatens, at no distant period, to dissolve all the bonds that bind men together, unless some irresistible convictions step in to prevent the further growth that seems naturally to await it. The true philosopher may therefore feel sure of the secret co-operation and heartfelt gratitude of all women worthy of the name, when he reconstructs morality on Positive foundations, as a final substitute for its supernatural basis, too evi- dently worn out. Women who shall feel, as I do now, the necessity of descending with this object to the most abstract sciences, will appreciate at its proper value the unexpected help that reason at length steps forward to give to love. I now under- stand why your encyclopedic descriptive system, which I mean to study, proceeds in the reverse direction to that adopted in the exposition of which it is the summary. For we must become most familiar with this ascending order, as it is the order which the several Positive conceptions will always observe in their development. The mode you have just adopted of instituting this order obviates, in the main, the repugnance women naturally feel for too abstract a course. For hitherto they have seen it lead but too often to 192 8EC0KD PABT. dryness and pride. Now that I can always ke^ in sight and recall the moral object of the whole 'scientific elaboration, and the moral conditions peculiar to each of its distinct essential phases^ -I shall have as much satisfaction in ascending as in descending your encyclopedic scale. The Priest. — It will Ue easy for you, my daughter, to adopt the two methods alternately. For you may remark that, in both directions, the theoretical order will rest on the same principle ; it will, that is, in all cases follow the decrease of generality. All that is required is to refer the fundamental series at one time to the phenomena, at another to our own conceptions, according as it is to be used ob- jectively or subjectively. For in real truth, moral notions comprehend all the others. We arrive at these others by a course of successive abstractions This it is which constitutes their greater complidsr tion. The science of morals, therefore, is more * general from a subjective point of view than any of the lower sciences. At the other end of the scale, mathematics are the most general science, solely as being the most simple. As a branch of study, then, they are more general from the objective point of view, less general than any other from the sub- jective. They are the only science applicable to every form of existence within our knowledge, but they also are the science which gives us least know- ledge of the beings with which it deals, for it can only reveal the commonest laws. All the interme- diate sciences offer, though in a less degree, in both THE DOCTRINE. 193 respects, the same contrast which exists between mathematics and morals. But whether you ascend or descend, in both cases alike, morals, in the ency- clopedic course, are the supreme science, as being at once the most useful and the most complete. It is in morals that science, having thrown off by degrees the abstraction that originally characterized it, forms a systematic union wkh practice. The steps indispensable as preparations have all been taken. The wisdom of mankind, then, systematized by Positivism, will retain the admirable, though equi- Tocal term, Morals. In morals alone, the art and the science have one common name— an equivoca- tion which pedants may regret, but which Posi- tivism respects. In this apparent .confusion moral Science happily finds an equivalent for that which it cannot have. I allude to the discipline which, in all the others, anticipates or corrects the ten- dency to scientific aberrations, a tendency inherent in our intellectual cultivation as we ascend the en- . cyclopedic scale. As a rule, we restrict each phase of progress to the degree in which it is necessary for the preparation of the next above it. We re- serve for the skill of the practical man all the details which may be required in any particular case. Spite of the declamations of academicians, it is allowed that a discipline of this nature sanctions every theory of real interest, excluding only such scientific questions as are childish. At the present day, the intellect and the heart alike demand the o 194 SECOND PART. suppression of all such. But the rule just stated is not applicable to moral science. For all the others it is most valuable ; but evidently it ceases to apply in the case of the science which stands at the head of the system. Were moral theories as much cultivated as the rest, their greater complication, in the absence of any special discipline, would expose them to more frequent and more dangerous aberrations. But the heart, in this case, comes forward to guide the intellect. It recalls more forcibly here than else- where the universal subordination of theory to practice. It does this by means of the happy am- biguity of the very name, morals. Philosophers ought, in reality, to bring the same dispositions as women to the ^tudy of morals; they ought to study them, that is, in order to gain rules for con- duct. Only the deductive science of the philoso- pher should give generality and consistency to the inductions of women. These qualities might other- wise be wanting, and yet they are almost always indispensable to secure the social, or even private, efficacy of moral precepjis. The WomarL — ^W^ have, then, now constituted the real scientific system. I should be glad, my father, at the close of this long and difficult con- versation, if you would state generally what are the properties of your encyclopedic series, viewed for the future jis an ascending series. Under this point of view I shall soon be familiar with it I can see, without your aid, the moral and intellectual • THE DOCTRINE. 195 dangers inherent in this objective cultivation, so long as it remained uncontrolled by the subjective discipline just explained! :^o long as this was the case, the fact that the differejiit phases of the sden- -tific encyclopedia must be successive, compelled Bien, in the cultivation of scienQe"^ provisionally to lulopt a system of detail, and* to disperse their efforts, in a way which ran directly counter to the essentially general character which theoretical views ought to present. The result was, more especially in the learned, but without the mass being exempt, an increasing tendency, on the one hand, to mate- rialism and atheism ; on the other, to a contempt fcac the softer affections, and a neglect of the fine arts. I have long been aware that under all these aspects, Positivism, rightly viewed, is perfectly distinct from its scientific preamble, nay, is the best corrective of its tendencies. But I cannot, by myself alone, gain a satisfactory view of those essential attributes of Positivism which I am now to appreciate in the system of your theoretical hierarchy. The Priest. — You may be satisfied, my daughter, with two very important attributes. They corre- spond to the two general objects of the hierarchy of science, the subjective object no less than the objective. Perhaps in this place I had better say, logical and scientific — ^logical, if the attention is directed mainly on the method, or scientific, if on the doctrine. Under its logical aspect, the encyclopedic series o2 196 8EC0KD PJ points out the necessary coirse to be adopted by our scientific education, and secondly, the gradual formation of the true pr(gi^otl( of reasoning. Mainly deductive in its cradl^^hat is, in mathematics, for in mathematics tKe'^requisite inductions are almost always made spontaneously, the Positive method becomes more and more inductive in proportion as the speculations on which it enters are of a higher order. In this long elaboration, four principal steps must be noticed, the steps at which the grow- ing complication of the phenomena makes us sao- cessively develope observation, experiment, compa- rison, and historical filiation. Take in the point from which we start, mathematics, and then each of these five logical phases naturally absorbs its pre- decessors. This is but the consequence of the natural subordination of the phenome|^ Thus the true logic becomes complete, and as complete, sys- tematic, at the point where the rise* of sociology necessitates the introduction of the historical method, just as biology had previously introduced the art of comparison, after that physics had sufficiently de- veloped observation and experiment. Fortunately for your sex, its ignorance renders it imnecessary, at the present day, to Aow by philo- sophical demonstrations, that of which Positivism labours to convince men, — that to leam reasoning, the only way is to reason with certainty and precision on clear and definite matter. Many who are quite aware that to learn an art, you must practise that art, still listen to the sophists who teach them to reason, THE DOC5TBINE. 197 or even to speak, by reasoning on reasoning, or by speaking about speech. You were taught grammar and perhaps rhetoric, but at least you were spared logic, the most pretentious of the three scholastic studies ; and being spared it, your own reason, judiciously trained in the school of your cherished Moli^re, was soon able to do justice to the two other classical absurdities. Strengthened as you now are by systematic convictions, you will have no hesitation in treating with proper ridicule the Trissotins who would teach you the art of deduction, without having themselves ever applied deduction in its proper province, -mathematics. Each essential branch of the Positive method must always be studied in the particular department of science which gave occasion to its introduction. The Womtff, — This first property fortunately has no difficulty for me. I see in it the statement of simple good sense. So I beg you, my fistther, to pass on at once to the second general property of your encyclopedic series. The Priest. — Its second property is, my daughter, that it gives us a systematic conception of the whole order of the world, as is indicated by the second heading of my conspectus. From inorganic matter up to morality, each term in the series rises on the basis of its predecessor, in obedience to this funda- mental law, the necessary consequence of the real principle of our hierarchy : The noblest phenomma are, m aU caeesy svhordinate to the lowest. This is the only role of really universal application dis- 198 SECOND PAB1V covered by the objective study of the world and man. But as this law cannot supersede the necech sity of less general laws, it cannot by itself con- stitute the barren external unity vainly sought by all philosophers from Thales to Descartes. We renounce then the stimulus of this MvolooB inquiry, ^ud we find a more valuable substitute in the moral purpose i^f all our scientific ef^rts. Still we are glad to trace, for all our abstract doc- trines, an objective bond of union inseparable from their subjective co-ordination. Our practical social experience above all must turn to account such a victor of the system of our destinies. Our depen- dence and our dignity become thus connected one with the other, and we shall be better disposed to feel the value of voluntary submission, for oa sub- mission depends mainly our moral, and even our intellectual improvement. I would call your attention to the fact, and this must be considered as a complement of the great law above mentioned, that from the practical point of view, it represents the order of the world as increasingly susceptible of modification in propor- tion to the increasing complication of its pheno- mena. Improvement always implies imperfection, and imperfection increases as complication in- creases. But you see at the same time that man's providence becomes more efficient, and has more varied agents at its command. The compensation thus gained is still, doubtless, inadequate, so that the simplest order generally remains the most per- fect, though under a blind guidance. Still, this THE DOGTBINE. 199 general law of the lidbilitj to modification places morals as the supreme art in two ways, first by- virtue of its superior importance, next because it offers a larger field for wise action on our part. Practice and theory, then, combine to justify the predominance which Eositivism systematically allows to morals. - The Womom. — Since you.J>ave now explained to me suj£ciently the whole system of Positive doctrine, I would wish, my father, before leaving you to-day, to know beforehand the object of the two other con- versations you promised me in this second part of your Catechism. I do not see what is left for me to know, as regards the systematic basis of the Universal religion, nor why I may not pass at once to the direct and special study of the system of lifa The Priest, — Our conceptions hitherto, my daughter, have been too abstract and too general to make a sufficient impression on you. I must complete them by some less general explanations!, of a more concrete and definite character, explana- tions too of which I shall make further use. With- out detaining you at each particular phase of the encyclopedic construction, as will be the case in the new education of the Western world, I shall simply ask you to appreciate separately the two unequal parts which, historically, make up the whole of Positive Philosophy. That philosophy embraces the whole order of the world. It is a natural division to tpke separately the order of the world external to man, and the 200 SECOND PABT. social and moral order of inan*s world. The £rst includes cosmology and biology. Under the name of natural philosophy, the term ordinarily used in England, it constituted the scientific domain of the ancients, and even of this domain they could only give a static sketch. B^des that the true scienti- fic spirit did not admit, at that time, of a more com- plete freedom, the state of society was adverse to a premature extension. The result of such exten- sion could only be to compromise the existing order , without really aiding ulterior progress. lu, morals, however, the exceptional genius of Aristotle, after . reducing to a system, as far as was possible, natural philosophy, prepared the way for a sound philosophy, by an adequate sketch of the two essential parts of human statics, first the society, then the indi- vidual. So much was he in advance of others, thAt he was not really appreciated till thd Middle Ages, when the provisional separation of the two powers gave a direct impulse to the progress of our mo^ important speculations. But no social impulse however valuable, could dispense with the necessity of a long scientific preamble. The separate sciences must be worked out before true philosophy could enter into possession of its highest domain. Hence this provisional division of physics from morals lasted on to our own day. By virtue of its still existing, it is under its auspices that we eAter the last transitional stage of the reason of the Western world, directed by Positivism. ^* THE DOCTRINE. 201 CONVERSATION VII. THE ORDER OF THE EXTERNAL WORLD — INORGANIC MATTER, LIFE. The Woman. — On studying the conspectus which is the summary of our fundamental conversation, I see, my father, we must have two others, as you promised me at its close, on the subject of the . Positive doctrine. My heart must first make me . feel the«need of each separate science as a means towards the attainment of the end of this im- mense scientific construction; that end being the systematization of morals. My intellect must now be/* brought to see how the separate stages of this abstract edifice rise one above the other, from the basis to the summit. I may be content with this. I need not penetrate within. This systematic ascent is the indispensable complement of' the descent which I made under your guidance— -a descent necessary as a foundation for the ascent. If the mind of man can really mount by upward steps^ almost insensibly, from the lowest mathematical notions to the sublimest moral conceptions, no sight can be more worthy of my admiration. My sex never can follow 3uch a filiation in detail, but it must see in outline that it is possible, in order to be sure that systematic morals can be rested on really safe foundations. Then, the opinion of wonien will brand, as you wish it to do, the anarchical sophists who, though Mth in all theology is abso- 202 6E0OKD PAST. lately decayed, oppose the substitution of Positive faith. Their object is to secure an inde&iite ext^en- sion of the religious interregnum which they find favourable to their moral unworthiness and their intellectual incapacity. You may then without fear detain me upon the mathematical step^ as mathematics, according to you, are the only solid basis for our theory of the world. The marked aversion felt for this study by all our metaphysical make-mischiefs, predisposes me to see that mathe- matics have the efficiency for organization you attri«- bute to them. The Priest, — To get a clear conception of mathe- matics, as the logical and scientific basis of the whole edifice of abstract science, it is enough, my daughter, to take an accurate survey of the domain assigned to them in our encyclopedic table. Mathematics study directly universal existence, when reduced to its simplest and consequently lowest phenomena^ the phenomena on which necessarily rest all other real attributes of that existence. These fundamental properties of any being whatever are number, extension, movement. Whatever cannot be con- sidered under these three points of view can have no existence except in our understanding. But nature shows us many beings of whom we can know nothing beyond the elementary attributes. Such are the stars. They are from their distance only accessible to us by the sight. They admit, therefore, only of mathematical study, quite suM- cient, it must be allowed, to form a proper guide as THE D0CTRI2TE. 203 to our true relations towards them. Therefore it is that astronomy will always furnish the most direct and complete application of mathematical science. Still if the general laws of number, extension, motion, could have been studied nowhere but in the heavenly bodies, they never would have heea discovered, extremely simple though they be. But as you find them everywhere, they were open to discovery in more accessible cases. We had but to put aside by a series of unconscious abstractions the other attributes of matter which complicated the question. And here let me point out how, under the auspices of our hierarchical principle, we may get the true internal distribution of each great science as naturally as the general co-ordination of the sciences. Mathematics cannot be reduced to less than three constituent parts — ^the calculus, geometry, mechanics. These three are a progressive series, from the historical no less than the dogmatical point of view, a series essentially analogous to that which k seen on a larger scale in the whole of the abstract system. The ideas of number are certainly more universal and simpler than those even of extension, and these on the same ground, in their turn, pre- cede those of motion. In the case of most of the stars, our real know- ledge cannot extend beyond an accurate enumera- tion. We cannot go so far even as to say what ih&vt shape or size is, nor are we concerned with it. Phenomena as well as beiijigs admit the numerical 204 SECOND PART. point of view. It leaves all things indistinct, but it is really the only one universally applicable, since none of our thoughts but come under it. It is of course but a rough view, but it may be put to a good use. We may use number to perfect our ideas of harmony and stability. In fact, the best tjrpes of these are found in number. And so you see children of themselves begin their initiation in abstract science, by simple speculations in number, long before they begin to think on the attributes of space. As for motion, you easily see the increase of complication and the decrease of generality which make this study the highest part of the domain of mathematics. This is why the Greeks, forward as they were in geometry, never could master even the outline of mechanics, except for some cases ' of equilibrium. They never had a glimpse of the elementary laws of motion. If we compare these tliree essential parts of mathematics, we see that the calculus of which algebra, rather than arithmetic, is the principal development, has a logical destination in particular, over and above its peculiar and direct use. Its real essential adaptation is to enlarge to the utmost our power of deduction. The study of extension and of motion acquires, by the introduction of the calculus, a character of generality and coherence, which they could not have unless all their problems were transformed into mere questions of number. From the scientific point of view, on the other hand. THE DOGTBUTE. 205 it is geometry and meclianics which mainly consti- tute mathematics; for they, and they alone, enable us directly to form our theory of universal existence, viewed as passive in geometry, in action in me- chanics. Mechanics, then, take an important encyclopedic position, as the necessary transition between ma- thematics and physics. The peculiar characteristics of both are found in close combination in mechanics. In them logic is seen to be no longer purely deduc- tive, as it was supposed to be in geometry, owing to the extreme facility of making the required in- ductions. In mechanics we begin to feel distinctly the need of an inductive basis; nor is it easy to trace such a basis amongst our concrete observa- tions. We require it, to allow free scope for the abstract conceptions which are to connect with it the general problem of the composition and com- munication of motion. It was the want of this external foundation which prevented mechanics, as a science, from being developed till the seventeenth century. Up to that time, mathematics had only established subjective laws, the only laws which geometry and the calculus reveal, where men do not as yet see that subjective necessarily imply objective laws. These last, however, became the objects of distinct attention, from the great difficulty they presented to the founders of mechanical science. The three fundamental laws of motion are so important and 00 universal that I must state them here, as the 206 SECOND PART. best types of true laws of nature, which are nothing but general &cts, allowing of no explanation, bnt serving as the basis of all rational explanationB. The prevalence of metaphysics was a great hindranoe to their discovery, but the greatest was the inherent difficulty of that discovery. For it* was the first capital effort of the genius of induction, enabled at length to discern, in the midst of the commonest events, general relations which h^ hitherto escaped all the efforts of man's intellectual activity. The first law, discovered by Kepler, is this : all motion is naturally rectilinear and uniform. Hence curvilinear, or any movement which is not uniform, can only be the result of .a continuous combination of successive impulses, which impulses maybe either active or passive. The second law, due to Galileo, sets forth the independence of the movements of the bodies that form parts of a system — the inde- pendence, that is, in regard to. their movement in common as a system. But this community of move- ment must be complete in velocity as well as in direction. Only on this condition can the particu- lar bodies that combine to form the whole remain in the same state of relative rest or motion, as if their whole were motionless. So this second law is not applicable to rotatory movements. And it was, therefore, from the consideration of such move- . mfints that came the faulty objections which it met with on its discovery. Lastly, the third law of ^ motion, that of Newton, establishes that, in every case of mechanical collision, action is always acoom- THE DOCTRINE. /207 piuoded by equal and coutraiy reaction, projirided that, in measuring every change, proper regai:d be paid to the mass of the bodies brought into cc|ntact, as well as to their speed. This third law/is the basis of all notions relating to the communication of motion, just as that of Galileo is of tho4e that concern its composition, whilst Kepler's law deter- mines what each motion is separately by fts own nature. These three laws together an^ ^omcient to enable us to enter on a deductive solutioib. of the general problem of mechanics, by bringing /the more coftipHcated cases under the xaore simple. In this gradual process we avail ourselves of mathematical artifices often diflScult to iiiyent These general laws will be of use to yoii as giving a direct explanation of numbers of pheiiooaena of daily experience, in the midst of whicSi you live without understanding or even perceiving them. They are eminently fitted to make yoB feel what it is which constitutes the true genius «f science. Finally, you should remark how each one of them naturally ranges itself imder a law common to all phenomena whatever, to social and moral quite as much as simply material phenomena. The first law connects with the law of persistence which we trace everywhere. The second connects with the law which recognises the independence of the action of the part as regards .the conditions common 'to^e whole. By this law, in social questions we find it possible to reconcile order with progress. As ftfr , the third, it is at once universally applicable, the 20^^K!S SECOND. PABT. apnHBH^arying only so £u: afi the influences con^flp!mi.r7. This philosophical connexion of theHpk mB^B of motion completes our estimate of the 'iirqpnrtAice, in an encyclopedic point of yiew, of iKoc^umUi, the last portion of the domain of matWuKtk* Tm \rWMlf'n, — These considerations are so ab- stract Elicl*^®!* that they naturally, my father, are beyoAd ^tttf grasp for to-day. But I feel that, if aIlo^v^6ixa»:|br sufficient reflection, I shall be able to mlpltiP tliam. I beg you then to pass on at once )tt tilt direct sJtody of the external world. ^AcPriw^-— To place this study on its proper philosophical fcoting, I am compelled, my daughter, to re(|i»rei. of tyou one last effort relative to our encyclipHUs^'tonstruction. I gave the name of PhysioBPfc.' .' iiW whole of the second cosmological scienca you- must break up this whole into three grf^^t; snciices, really distinqj one from the other. JJatf-nT^y takeix in their ascending order^ now becoming familiar tcK you — ^first. Astronomy ; next. Physics properly so called, and which keeps the common name ; lastly, Cheinistry, as you may find by consulting our synopsis. ""^ the hierarchy of science finally offers to your viewN[even degrees, in the place of the five hitherto recc gnised. We pass from one form of it to the othe^r, by simply dmwing out into fuller detail the second of the five original degrees, just as you lengthen a pocket tele- scope by drawing out its tubes. It is only when you come to apply them, that you will see in each THE I^CTRINE. ^ 209 case which of the two arrangements youJishould adopt. ^. ^ For in fact, our fundamentfeJ series allows of several different arrangements, according as jou contract it or enlarge it, the better to satisfy our different intellectual wants. Only we must never invert the order of succession. The most condensed form allowed is as clearly indicated in the synopsis as the most expanded. At a further stage of your advance you will often reduce the whole encyclopedic bundle to the simply dual form of cosmology and sociology. To do this at first Vould expose you to vagueness. Bi^t beyond this you will never go, so evidently impossible is it to reduce objectively one under the other the two primary groups. The only union possible for them is subjective, attain- able by placing oneself directly at the religious point of view. By the help« tivism. It is a consequence of the irreconcileabla opposition between laws and supernatural wilL What becomes of the wonderful order we have traced, which, by a graduated series, connects otir noblest moral attributes with the lowest natural phenomena, if we introduce an infinite power? The capricious action of such a power would allow of no prevision. It would threaten our order at any moment with an entire subversion. The Womcm, — Before I attempt to master directly this general continuity, there remains, my fitther, one great gap to fill up. We have not treated of life. You must now place that before me in a systematic point of view. Whilst descending our encyclopedic series, I saw the natural connexion of the science of life with sociology. But I cannot get to see, as yet, any natural connexion between it and inorganic matter. An impassable abyss seems to me to separate the domain of life firom that of death. The Priest. — That you feel this difficulty, my daughter, is in full conformity with the historical progress of the scientific initiation of the race. Scarcely two generations ago, thinkers of real ability were unable to form a clear conception of the con- nexion between life and matter. And yet it is a point of fundamental importance, the capital diffi- culty of all natural philosophy. In the first place, it was natural, on the rise of chemistry, that cosmologists should push on their THE DOCTBIKE. 219 study of matter as far as its noblest and most com- plicated phenomena. The next step required was, that biologists should descend to the lowest and simplest functions of life, the only ones that could admit of a direct connexion with the inorganic basis laid by the cosmologist. Such was the most im- portant result of the admirable conception due to the true founder of the philosophy of biology, the incomparable Bichat By a profound analysis, the most noble vital functions, even in man, were con- sidered by philosophical biology as always resting on the lowest, in obedience to the general law of the order of natura Animal life is in all cases subordinate to vegetable life ; in other words, the life of relation is subordinate to that of nutrition. This luminous principle leads us to see that the only phenomena, really common to all living beings, are those of the decomposition and recomposition of their substance, which they are constantly under- going from the action upon them of external influ- ences; in other words, o{ ^mt hUieu. So our whole system of vital functions rests on acts which have a strong analogy with chemical results. The only real difference lies in the greater instability of oombination. In the vital phenomena, the compli- cations are also, it should be remembered, more com- plicated. The simple and fundamental life — ^that in which decomposition and recomposition are the exclusive phenomena — is found only in the vegetable. There it reaches its highest development. /TFot^ plants can directly assimilate inorganic materials, 220 SECOND PART. and change tbem into organic substances. This is never the case with higher beings. In fiicfc the general definition of animal life is, that it derives its nourishment from living substances. On this definition, follow, as necessary conditions, the capa- city of discerning these substances and the power of procuring them— consequently sensibility and contractility. To consolidate this, his fundamental analysis of life, the groat Bichat was soon compelled to con- struct an anatomical conception which might be at once its complement and its strictest expression. The cellular tissue alone is universal and forms the proper seat of vegetable life. Animal life 'resides in the nervous and muscular tissues. This con- ception completes the general idea of biology. It establishes a sufiicient agreement between 4ts stati- cal and dynamical point of view to enable us to pass, with propriety, from the function to the organ, or from the organ to the function. In obedience to the ])recept of logic which bids us study all phenomena in the beings where they are most strongly marked and most free from any complication with higher phenomena, the theory of vegetable life becomes the normal basis of biology. It establishes directly the general laws of nutrition by a consideration of the case to which they apply in their simplest and intensest forms. This is the only part of biology which could be absolutely kept separate from sociology, were we for a moment to suppose that a subjective arrangement did not direct THE DOCTRINE, 221 all objective intellectual cultivation. The theory of vegetable life is the natural transition from matter to life. The Woman, — I see by this, my father, that you are able to establish a continuous series so as to include the lower part of the scientific hierarchy. But when the point of departure is a form of life so low as the simple life of the vegetable, I do not see how we can rise to the true type of life, man, although I quite recognise that man is subject to the laws of nutrition as he is to those of weight. The Friest — The difficulty which you feel, my daughter, is precisely the one attempted to be met by the most important artifice in biology. All biologists from Aristotle to Blainville have, each in turn, contributed to its formation. ^'''?^ Priest. — You can gratify this reasonable /wish, my daughter, by mastering the three great laws which govern each of them. You must look ; oa these laws as so many general facts, subordinate / to one another but completely distinct. Taken together, they explain both the continuous func- tions of the life of nutrition and the intermittent functions of the life of relation. * ' jlhe first law of vegetable life, the necessary basis of all our study of life, without any exception for the case of man, consists in the renewal of its sub- stance which every living being constantly requires. This fundamental law is followed by that of growth and decay, ending in death. Death is not in itself the necessary consequent of life, but it is every- where the constant result of it. Lastly, this first biological system is completed by the law of repro- duction, by which the preservation of the species compensates the loss of the individual. The most important property, common to all living beings, is the aptitude each has to produce offspring similar to itself, as it in turn was pro- duced by similar parents. Not merely is it true, that no organic existence ever sprung from inor- ganic nature ; but further, no species of any kind can spring firom one of a different kind, either in- ferior or superior. The limits of the exceptions to this rule are very narrow, and are as yet but little known. There is then a really impassable gulf THE DOCTRINE. ! 225 between the worlds of life and of matter, and even, though less broad, between the different forms of vitality. This view strengthens our position, that any simply objective synthesis is impossible. But it in no way impairs the true subjective synthesis, in every case, the result of a very gradual ascent towd^s ihe type of man. As for the three laws of animal life, the first con- sists in the need of alternate exercise and rest which is felt throughout the whole life of relation, with no exception for our noblest attributes. This in- termittence, which is the characteristic of the animal functions, is naturally connected with the beautiful observation of Bichat on the constant symmetry of the organs answering to those functions. Half of each organ can be in action whilst the other half remains passive. The second law, which here, as elsewhere, presupposes the preceding one, without • being a consequence from it, proclaims the tendency of each of these intermittent functions to habitual exercise — ^that is to say, the function has an inhe- rent tendency to reproduce itself spontaneously when the original impulse has ceased. This law, the law of habit, finds its natural complement in that of imitation, nor are the two really distinct. According to the profound remark of Gabanis, the aptitude to imitate others is but the result of the aptitude to imitate oneself, at least in every species capable of sympathy. Lastly, the third* law of animal life, in subordination to that of habit, con- sists in the capability of improvement both In the Q 226 flEOOlTD PABT; statical and dynamieal point of view^ inherent in all the phenomena of relation. In all alike, exercise strengthens the fnnctious and organs, prolonged disase tends to weaken them. This last law rests on the two others, but is distinct from them. It Bu#as up the whole theory of animal life, as 70a at once saw was the case with the last law of vege- table life. By a combination of these two great laws, each the last of its respectiye series, you form a seventh law of life, that of hereditary transmission. This deserves a distinct scientific appreciation, although logically, it is only a necessary consequence of the preceding laws. As every function or structure in the animal world is perfectible up to a certain point, it is clear that every living being's capability of reproducing its like may fix in the species the mo- difications which have taken place in the individual, supposing those modifications to have taken suffi- cient root. It follows that there is a power of im- provement, limited but continuous, dynamical in the main, but also statical, in every race whatever, each generation in succession contributing its quota. This important faculty, in which the two systems of biological laws find a natural expression, is sus- ceptible of greater development in proportion as the race is higher. For by being higher it more readily admits of modifications, as it is also more active by virtue of its greater complication. Although the general laws which regulate here- ditary transtiaission are as yet too little known, the THE DOCTRINE. 227 above considerations indicate its high eflScacy as re- gards the direct amelioration of man's nature, his phy- sical, intellectual, and above all his moral nature. It is an indisputable fact that hereditary transmission is as applicable, or even more applicable, to our noblest attributes as to our lowest. For phenomena become more susceptible of modification, and consequently of improvement, in proportion as they are by nature higher and more special. The valuable results obtained in the principal races of domestic animals convey but a faint idea of the improvements | which are reserved for the most eminent species, ; under the systematic guidance of its own provi- / dence. , »-^ -"^ The Woman, — This general conclusion of the \ study of life makes me fully see its theoretical and practical importance. I feel now ready to study directly the order of man's world, reserved for our last conversation on the doctrine of Positivism. Tlit Friest. — ^You may, my daughter, find it ; useful to sum up, under its most important philo- t sophical aspect, ouripresent conversation. You may do it by merely contrasting, as you see is done, in our synopsis^ the two divisions of Positive Philo-.' sophy, the historical and doctrinal divisioi^s. In the historical division, the one adapted fg^.th*:- initiation alike of the individual or the B(/fi^^t '«e place biology in close connexion with ; eaer^i^^^yy/. In the doctrinal, which represents/ omr^^tli^fi^ state, on the contrary, we com^liw H<>^B^ith / The contrast bri^ip i>^^^'. f^ff^y the"^ Q 2 ^ 22S ' ^, SEPOND PART. most important characteristic of the order, of life, as the natural connecting link in the serie^ between . the world of matter and the world of man. . % CONVERSATION VIII. • MAN — FI^ST, AS A SOCIAL, SECONDLY, AS A MORAL BEING. The Womcm, — Before we enter on the highest province of science, I must draw your attention, my father, to a general difficulty. It is the outcome of the metaphysical objections I have often heard urged against the extension of the Positive doctrine to this province, an extension on which its success depends. To subject social and moral phenomena to invariable laws of the same nature as the laws to which the phenomena of life and matter are subjected — this is represented by certain reasoners as incompatible with the liberty of man. These objections always seemed to me simply sophistical, yet I never knew how to meet them. They influ- ence far too many, and act as a check on their natural inclination to adopt Positivism. The Priest. — It is easy, my daughter, to over- «)0't^V this preliminary difficulty by a direct state- ^^eiw ^^e nature of true liberty. <^ -: iab.*»rt|^^v in its true sense, is in no way incom- ';pjfl«»iky N. fUliW order of things. On the contrary, in "^ffiW^ ^•-^ft -Mfcierty consists in obeying, without ny if^|4*«a^^ <|^laws which in each case are \ THE DOCTRINE. » 229 applicable^. When a body falls, it shows itQ liberty, by moviug- according to its nature towards the centre of the earth, with a velocity propoi-tionate to the time, unless the interference of a fluid modi- fies its natural action.* So in the department of life, every function, vegetable or animal, is said to be free, if it exerts itself according to the laws a^licable to its case, without any bin'drance from within or from without. The intellectual and moral existence of man admits of the application of the same principle. This is seen directly in the case of our action, but if true of our action it becomes at once necessary for the motor of our action, that is, our affection ; necessary also for that which guides our action, our reason. K liberty for man consisted in his obeying no law, such liberty would be even more immoral than absurd, for it would make every system of life im- possible for the individual or for the society. Our intellect then most fully evidences its liberty when it fulfils that which is its vocation, in its normal state — ^when it becomes, that is, the faithful mirror of the world without, in spite of the physical or moral impulses which might have a tendency to disturb its action. No one can refuse a,n intellectual assent to demonstrations which he understands. Nay more, no one can reject the opinions 'w^hich are generally received by those among whom he lives, even though he do not know the foundation on which they rest, granting that he have no previous belief of the contrary. For instance, we might 230 . ^ SECOND PART. challenge the proudest metaphysicians to deny the earth's motion, or doctrines of still more recent origin ; and yet they have no knowledge whatever of the scientific proofis of such doctrines. It is the same in respect to moral order. It would be one mass of contradictions, nay the very idea of it would be , contradictory, were it possible for every one, at his own good pleasure, to hate when he ought to love, or vice versd. The will admits of a liberty similar to that of the intellect. The will is jfree, when our , good instincts acquire such ascendancy that our affection can do its proper work, and, by its impulse, enable us to overcome our bad instincts, the egoistic motors. Thus in every case equally, true, liberty is inherent in, and subordinate to, the order which prevails, whether for man, or in the external world. But in proportion as the phenomena become more complicated, they become mo;re exposed to dis- turbance. Hence the need of greater efforts to maintain their normal state — efforts, however, for which there is abundant scope, owing to their being more open to systematic modifications. Our highest liberty, then, consists in making, as far as possible, our good inclinations predominate over otir bad. This, too, is the direction in which our power is capable of most extension, provided always that, in our intervention, we act in constant obedience to the* fundamental laws of the whole order of tilings. The doctrine of metaphysics on the so-called moral liberty must be considered, historically, as a tern- THE DOCTRINB. 231 porary result of modem anarehy. Its direct aim is to sanction complete individaalism, the ultimate limit to which ve have been approximating since the close of the Middle Ages, and during the insur- rectionary period which in Western Europe natu- rally followed on that close. But ^ this sophistical protest against all sound discipline, whether private or public, will never be able to fetter Positivism, though successful as against Catholicism. It will never be possible to represent as hostile to the liberty and dignity of man, a doctrine which places on a sure basis, and gives free scope to, the action, the intellect, and the feelings of man. The Woman, — By the aid of this preliminary explanation, I shall be able, my £Btther, henceforth to meet sophisms which have yet great weight, where there is deficient cultivation. Would you now explain at once how Positivism evidences its universal competence by a successful application of its doctrine to the phenomena of society 9 The Priest, — At the outset, my daughter, you must look on the great science of sociology as made up of two essential parts : the one statical, or the theory of order ; the other dynamical, or the theory of progress. It is the first that claims our special attention in religious instruction, for there the fun- damental nature of the Great Being is the direct object of our study. But the. dynamical, portion must complete the conception formed by the "first, by explaining the successive doctrines of Humanity, in ''order to a right direction of our social action. 232 SECOND PART. These two halves of sociology are bound one to another in closest union, by virtue of a general principle laid down by Positivism^ with a view to connect throughout the study of movement with that of existence. Progress is the devdopmeni of order. Such a law, applicable even in mathematics, finds a larger application in proportion as the phe- nomena become more complicated. The distinption in this case becomes more marked between the sta- tical and the dynamical state. At the same time the simplification produced by this connexion of our studies acquires a greater value. It is in soci- ology, then, that this great principle finds its best application, as it is to sociology that we trace its systematic adoption. In this science it is as appli- cable if you invert it, as if you take it as it origin- ally stands. For the successive states in which man has existed must in this way throw more and more light on the essential constitution of the race. The germs of that constitution must be traceable in its first outline in the primeval state. But to explain the theoretical and practical efficacy of dynamic sociology is the special object of the conversation with which we shall conclude this Catechism. For the present, I must confine myself to an explana- tion of the principal notions of social statics. The Woman, — I may add that your doing so, my father, suits my inadequate knowledge of history. l%ough the conceptions of social statics must be more abstract than those of social dynamics, I shall find it easier to grasp them, if I give the attention THE DOCTRINE. 233 which their importance and difficulty require. 'At any rate, I shall be supported under the sense of my ignorance by Ifae certainty of finding in myself the confirmation of a doctrine based on the direct study of human nature. The Priest — You are right, my daughter; an attentive examination of yourself will show you at once the necessary constitution of society. For if society is to represent, as it shotild do, the general exisFtenceof Humanity, it must allow, unmistakeably, a combination of all the essential attributes of man. In your own existence you can trace these attri- butes. If not very distinct, they are yet sufficiently so for you to be able to conceive how they may ultimately act in perfect harmony, when each of them shall have a collective organ, and by means of that organ shall be enabled to give full expression to its peculiar characteristics. Consider Humanity as being like yourself, only in a more marked degree, impelled by feeling, guided by intelligence, and supported by action. At once you have the three essential elements of society : the sex in which affection prevails ; the contemplative class, that is, the priesthood ; and the active class. I have arranged them according to their decrease in dignity, but also according to their increase in independence. The last then is the necessary basis of the whole economy of the Great^ Being, in obedience to the fundamental law, with which you are now familiar, that the noblest attri- butes are in all cases subordinate to the lowest. 234 '^ SECOND PABT. In reality, the unintermitting wants, which are the result of our bodily constitution, enforce on Humanity an amount of action which constitutes the most marked feature in her existence. For de- veloping this activity the need of co-operation be- comes constantly greater. So action, whilst it is the most powerful stimulant of our intelligence^ supplies the strongest excitement to our sociability. In reference to this last, it makes solidarity more completely subordinate to continuity — ^for it is in continuity that resides the most characteristic, as well as the noblest, attribute of the Great Being. The material results of human co-operation depend more on the combined action of a succession of generations than on that of the families who at any one time co-exist. It follows, that far from being absolutely un&vourable to the free play of the intellect and morality, this continuous prepon- derance of active life ought to furnish the best security for our unity, by providing the intellect and the heart with a definite direction and a pro* gre|isive object Without this all-pervading im- pulse, our besiti, mental and even our best moral dispositions would soon degenerate and become mere vague and incoherent tendencies, resulting in no progress either for the individual or the com- munity. Still, as such activity must always originate in a ' personal impulse; such origin will at first stamp it With a profoundly egoistical character. This can only become altruistic by a gradual transforma- THE DOCfTRINE. 235 tion due to the development of the social impulae. This is the reason why, in order fully to understand the constitution of the society, we must break up its active class into two constituent parts, always distinct, and often in opposition the one to the other. They have as their special object, the one, to develope the practical impulse with the strong per- sonality implied in its great energy, the other, the reaction of society on the personal impulse, a reac- tion which raises it more and more. It is indispensable to break up the active class in this way. All we have to do, is to divide the active power of society, and consider it as concentrated or dispersed, according as it is the result of wealth or of number. j^ The power of wealth can only tell indirectly. Btill, it is generally the stronger, and it has a ten- dency to become so more and more, representing, as it does, the continuity of our race, whilst that of numbers represents its solidarity. For the material treasures which Humanity entrusts to the rich, are the result of a long antecedent accumulation. There is no objection to this statoioent in the fact that-^heir necessary consumption constitutes a per- manent demand for partial renovation. Any strong practical impulse, then, must come from the patii- date. In that body is vested the control of the capital of the race, the great nutritive reservoirs, the social efficiency of which mainly depends on their being concentrated in few hands. Thus pro- perty receives a direct sancti^i from Positive reli- 236 8ECOFD PART. gion, as being the essential condition of any con- tinuous activity, and, as such, indirectly the basis of our noblest progress. The second practical element, without which the first would be worth nothing, is the proletariate, which of necessity forms the great body of every nation. Its only means of gaining social influence is union. Hence it has a direct tendency to bring into play our highest feelings. By the force of its position, the attention of the proletariate is mainly directed, at all times, on the moral regulation of an economy, any disturbance of which falls most espe- cially on it. Naturally free from the serious re- 8ponsibility and the mental absorption which all authority brings with it, be it theoretical or prac- tical authority, the spontaneous action of the pro- letariate is calculated to recall both the priesthood and the patriciate to a sense of their social duty. The Womom, — I believe, my father, that this con- tinuous influence of the active class is also quite as indispensable for women. It is needed to control or to compensate the exaggeration of feeling. Not mixing in active life, my sex is often disposed not to see or not to allow for the rough conditions it imposes. However, as we are under the sway of feeling, we may always be brought to accept these conditions, if, by accepting them, we can gain the object of woman's natural aspirations. But the necessities of active life must be the impulse to a right judgment on such points. The Priest. — Your, remark shows, my daughter, THE DOCTRINE. 237 that you completely understand the peculiar social office of the proletariate. For if even the affective sex can forget its true influence, and be too exclusively occupied with its own particular want, the speculative and the active classes are naturally far more exposed to this danger, as their attention is habitually taken up with points of detail The moral providence exercised by women, the intellectual providence vested in the priesthood, and the material provi- dence of the patriciate — all equally require for their completion the general providence of the proletariate. With this complement we perfect the constitution of the admirable system of human providence. Thus all the powers of man, each according to its nature, are made to conduce to the preservation and improvement of Humanity. We thus gain a general conception of the con- stitution of human society, which enables us to characterize its three essential elements. They take their rank on the principle of their decreasing aptitude to represent Humanity. Nor is the order different, if we look to the predominant influence which each exercises in its turn on every one who is completely educated. First comes the providence of woman, the power which, through our whole life, presides over our moral growth. Under its guidance, we learn to feel continuity and solidarity ; for it directs education during the period whilst it pro- ceeds unsystematically in the bosom of the family. As a next step, the providence of the priesthood teaches us to systematize our conceptions of the 238 SECOND PABT. nature and the destiny of the Great Being. This it does by disclosing to us, step by step, the order of the world, its material, social, and moral order. Lastly, we come into direct contact with, and obe- dience to, the power of the material providence — the patriciate and proletariate. We are initiated by it in practical life, and our preparation is completed by the influence of active life on our affections and thoughts. The full completion of our individual develops ment, the development of the brain as well as of the body, coincides naturally, in point of time, with the completion, as a general rule, of our initiation aa members of society. The combination of the two constitutes our real maturity. We then enter on our second life, a life essentially of action, succeed- ing the system of preparations which have fitted us for the service of Humanity. This fresh stage of our objective existence, though generally shorter than the first, is alone decisive. On it alone, that is, depends whether each head of a family attains or not the subjective existence which shall, accord- ing to his merits, incorporate* him into Humanity. To get a better idea of this constitution of society, we must consider, separately, its two most special elements, the only classes properly so called, the priesthood which counsels, the patriciate which commands. These two classes respectively are to preserve and increase the spiritual and material treasures of Humanity. They also preside over the proper distribution of these treasures amongst her THE DOCTRINE. 239 servants, in obedience to the laws which govern each of the two. We look to the theoretical class, in the first place, for systematic education. Secondly, we give it an influence over the whole of life, a consultative influence, that is. We do so, that it may bring the action of each individual into harmony with the axstion of the rest^ a point which in active life we are too apt to neglect. The admirable institution of human language is the special patrimony of the priesthood, for language is the natural depositary of religion, and the most important instrument in its exercise. But whilst we assign language thus specially to the priesthood, we must not forget that it has never been the work of any special class, but a result of the co-operation of the whole race. By its very nature, spiritual wealth is imperishable, and as such admits of being enjoyed simultaneously by all without being exhausted. So that to preserve it no distribution is needed, and its preservation is but a simple adjunct of the priestly office. Lan- guage is eminently synthetical and social ; it con- solidates and developes the natural subordination of the world of man to the external world. It also strengthens the union of man with man. This it does above aU by bringing into the closest connexion the systematic wisdom of the philosopher and the oommon sense of mankind. Material products are destined for individual use, and are, by their nature, perishable. Hence the laws of their preservation and use are totally 240 SECOND PART. different. Material products, then, form the proTinoe of the patriciate, as a body, aided by the general Buperintendenoe of society. But more than this, it is necessary that they should be appropriated to indi- Yidaal& If not so appropriated their concentra- tion, and as a rule they must be concentrated, be- comes illusory or rather impossible. This inntitu- tion of property, the primary basis of the material providence, must rest on the land, otherwise it will not have the requisite degree of stability; for the land is naturally the seat, as it is necessarily the source, of all actual production. Thus by a natural process are formed, in the course of generations, the nutritive reservoirs of Humanity. Their permanent destination is the constant renewal of man*s exis- tence. Those in whose hands the control of these reservoirs is placed have to direct the labours re- quired by this process. This is the main ojQice of the patriciate. It con- sists in restoring to each man the materials which he is constantly consuming in the service of society, either as provisions for his subsistence, or as the instruments by which he discharges his functions. Wages, rightly viewed, have no other func> tion whatever to the class that receives them. The labour of man, that is to say, the successful efforts man makes to modify his destiny, is really never otherwise than gratuitous. It does not admit ot it does not require any payment in the strict sense. The term equivalent is appropriate when we are dealing with the materials of labour. It is THE DOCTRINE. 241 inapplicable^ when we are considering the relation of the labourer to his work. This is a truth which has always been reoc^nised in the case of the affective sex and the contemplative class, nay even in the case of that portion of the. active class which pays the wages of the rest. The inherently gra- tuitous character of labour is disputed, then, only in the case of the proletariate, in the case of those, that is, who receive the least. The contradiction such a result involves clearly indicates the source, historically, of this anomaly. It is due essentially, not to any inferiority in the labour of the class in question, but to the long servitude of its members. Positive religion alone can on this point overcome modem anarchy. It does so by enforcing on all a sense that individual services never admit of any other reward than the satisfaction of rendering them, and the grateful feeling they excite. The Woman. — ^Vulgar minds may treat this view as a mere sentimental exaggeration, but I venture to promise you, my father, that it will soon meet with a cordial reception among women. I have often been shocked by the prevailing egoism. We are in the habit of thinking that a paltry money pay- ment supersedes all need of gratitude for important and difficult services, services which compromise the health, and sometimes the life, on each occasion, of those who perform them. This Positivist prin- ciple of the gratuitousness of labour gives a syste- matic consistency to feelings universally felt. All that such feelings need to secure their gradual pre- R 2^2 SECOND PABT. valence is, expression and method. This principle is the last step in the process by which I have been brought to see that it is possible to stamp on oar whole existence, even on its material part, an al- truistic character. All that is requisite for this holy transformation is, that we all, without attaining to a state of habitual enthusiasm, should have a deep sense that we have each our share in the common work. Now such a conviction can certainly be produced by a system of wise education in which all should participate — an education in which the heart will dispose the intellect to grasp truth as a whole, not in some details. The Priest. — In order to complete this our fiin- damental view of the constitution of society, it remains for me, my daughter, to explain the three forms it may take, or the three .associations which rise one above the other. Every collective organism, in other words every association, necessarily contains the several elements which I have just explained. But these consti> tuent parts have more or less of a marked character, and consequently are more or less distinct^ accord- ing to the nature and extent of the society under consideration. Their respective predominance leads us to recognise three different forms of human asso- ciation. Their order is determined by the decreas- ing closeness of the union, and their increasing extent. The intermediate one rests on its j»e- decessor, and is the basis of the one that follows. The only one where the natural foundation is love, THE DOCTRINE. 243 the Family, is the closest in point of union, the narrowest in extent, and is the necessary element of the two others. Man's action next leads to the formation of the OUy, The bond in this case results from, an habitual co-operation, the sense of which would be too weak if this political association were to include too large a number of families. Lastly comes the Ghwrch, Here the essential bond is faith. The Church alone can be really universal, and its universality will be a necessary consequence of Positive religion. These three forms of human society have as their respective centres, the womsai, the patriciate, and the priesthood. We all are members of a family, and that fiamily is always part of some city or other, and even of some church or other. But the church tie is weaker, and therefore susceptible of greater variation, though always within fixed limits. When it has attained sufficient consistency, we can by its aid and by no other means reduce the city to a proper size. The city is the centre around which each man centres his existence, by virtue of the natural preponderance of action over intellect, and even over feeling. For on no other condition can the social state be really permanent but on that of reconciling inde- pendence with joint action, both of which are equally inherent in the true idea of Humanity. Now this necessary agreement requires that political societies shall exist within limits much narrower than those usual, at the present day. In the Middle Ages there existed in outline the r2 244 SECOND PART. separation between the religions and the civil society. Hence it was possible, even then, to sub- stitute the free incorporation of the nations of the West, for the compulsory incorporation originallj enforced by the dominion of Bome. Western Europe thus presented, during several centuries, the admirable spectacle of an entirely voluntaiy union, an union founded solely on a common Mth, and maintained by a common priesthood between nations whose different governments had all the independence that was requisite. But this great political result could not survive the premature emancipation of a power which Positive religion alone can organize aright and finally enfranchise. The necessary decline of Catholicism led to a fresh concentration of the temporal power. The step was at the time indispensable to prevent the entire political dissolution which seemed imminent, as the consequence of the increasing disruption of all religious bonds. Hence it was, that notwithstanding the feelings and opinions of the Middle Ages, the traces of which are yet visible, the nations of Western Europe acquiesced in the formation every- where of States on far too large a scale. The political reasons for this exorbitant extension are now no longer valid. And even in France men begin to feel the danger inherent in this anomalous position, and to feel abo that its end is i^proaching. Positive religion will soon reduce these monster associations to the normal size. There will then be no need of force to maintain a temporal union THE DOCTRINE. 2i5 between nations, where a spiritual union alone is admissible. Thus shall we shortly apply our statical principle, which considers the single city the organ politically of Humanity, including in the city, by way of complement, the less condensed population in natural connexion with it. The feeling of patriotism is now va^e and weak in consequence of its excessive diffusion. It will in the new order be able to develope fully all the energy allowed by its concentration in the city. At the same time the habitual union of the great cities will become more real and more efficacious, for it will assume its normal character, that of a voluntary concert. Posi- tive faith will inspire a due sense of the solidarity and even of the continuity which must finally prevail between all portions of the earth without exception. The Womcm. — I feel now, my &ther, prepared, by your explanations of the theory of society, to take my seat at last at the highest point of the encyclopedic ediiice, the successive stages of which you have brought under my notice. Moral science must of course be the hardest of all Yet so far as ooncerns its empirical cultivation, my sex is too familiar with it for me to feel the alarm I felt in the case of the others. I am therefore glad to have reached in due time the systematic study of man as an individual The Priest. — In truth, my daughter, this, the necessary termination of the whole encyclopedic preparation, is alone able to satisfy the intellect as it does the heart. Moral science is more synthetical 246 SECOND PART. than any other. Its direct connexion with prac- tice gives strength to this its natural attribute. In moral science alone do all the abstract points of view meet' spontaneously to take the general guidance of concrete reason. From Thales to Pascal every genuine thinker has cultivated simultaneously geometry and morals, from a secret presentiment of the great hierarchy in which they should be finally combined The term microcosm, or lesser world, applied by the ancients to man, was even then an indication of the feeling that in the study of man all others might be condensed. Morals are naturally the only science susceptible of real completeness. No essential point need be put out of view, as must be the case in each of the sciences which serve as their basis. For when we look on these sciences as, each in its proper sphere, deciding what are the laws which man obeys, they only attain this end by pur- posely neglecting all the higher properties whidi their respective provinces might embrace, whilst they incorporate only the inferior ones. By this course of decreasing abstraction, the intellect is finally prepared to enter on the only study in which it is no longer compelled to abstract any essential property from the common object of all our various branches of human speculations. In no other way can meditation, the characteristic of the masculine intellect, be irrevocably united with contemplation, the distinctive feature of woman's intelligence — an union which constitutes the final condition of human reason. THB DOCJTBINtt 247 We begin with cosmology, which lays down the laws of mere matter. Then, on the basis thus laid, Hology constructs the theory of life. Lastly, soci- (dogy brings forward the study of the collectiye or social existence of man in subordination to the twofold foundation laid. This last of the pre- liminary sciences is more complete than its prede- cessors. Still it does not yet embrace the whole of human nature. For our most important attributes find but an inadequate appreciation in sociology. By its nature, sociology considers in man his intel- ligence and his activity, in combination with all our lower properties, but not in direct subordination to the feelings which are highest of alL The develop' ment of society places in the strongest light our theoretical and practical progress. Even in the statics of sociology, our feelings are only considered in reference to the social impulses derived from them, or to the modifications society introduces. Their peculiar laws, to be properly studied, must be studied in moral science. There they acquire the prepon- derance due to their higher rank in the system of human nature. This it is which leads minds of an unsystematic order to underrate the fulness of the synthetical character which distinguishes this final science. They limit it too closely to this its most important sphere, whereas that sphere is but the centre around which the rest must be finally grouped. The Woman, — The theoretical connexion between sociology and morals is not yet clear from mists. 248 8E00TSD PART. Would you, my father, scatter these mists before you pass to the direct exposition of the Positive conception of human nature ? I have not forgotten the indisputable reasons which in our fundamental conversation made me recognise the objective sub- ordination of morals to sociology, since man is always subordinate to Humanity. But on the other hand, it seems to me that the social science stands in continual need of the more important notions that morals are able to give it as to the true nature of man. The Priest. — ^Yotu* very resBonable difficulty, my daughter, will disappear, if you take into account that we have always some previous knowledge, ac- quired by our own efforts, which prepares the way for systematic study. Science is always simply the continuation of the good sense of mankind It never really creates any of the more important doctrines. The object of theory is the generaliza- tion and co-ordination of the empirical results of human reason, with a view of securing for those results the consistency and development otherwise unattainable. Such a connexion is more peculiarly appropriate in the study of morals. They could not, it is true, owing to their higher degree of complica- tion, be systematized till the last, but at the same time, by the force of their preponderant importance, they always supplied the main food for our ordinary meditations, especially those of women. From this empirical culture we soon gained some notions, which, in spite of their incoherence, were very valuable. THE DOCTRINE. 249 They have hitherto, it is true, heen despised hy minds of systematic tendencies, but only because such minds could £nd no place for them in their theo- logical or metaphysical theories. PositiTism alone is capable of taking in the social point of view j there- fore on it devolved the task of generalizing and co-ordinating these empirical notions, after founding the last of the preliminary sciences. Its ability to systematize them enabled it to appreciate their value in spite of philosophical prejudices ; and so it could turn them to immediate account in the construction of sociology. If you examine closely the way in which we habitually avail ourselves in sociology of the knowledge of human nature, you will soon see that all that we really use are these spontaneous notions, which have far more reality in them than all the moral speculations of earlier philosophers. This empirical sketch is sufiicient for our concep- tions, so far as they concern the collective existence of man, before it has been reduced to the systematic shape which the final science alone can determine. The Woman, — ^Your explanation, my father, en- tirely does away with the confusion which* I had noticed by the way as existing between the two essential aspects of the order of man, the social and the moral. My ignorance had preserved me from the classical theories of human nature. So I am the better able to appreciate the real character of the moral ideas which sociology employs, and to see their coincidence with the results obtained by the spontaneous action of human reason. 250 SECOND PART. The Priest, — As a direct foundation for the final science, it is sufficient, my daughter, to put in proper systematic form the division which the common sense of man early recognised in the whole of man's existence — ^the division into feeling, intellect, and action. In the oldest poets we may trace this analysis under different forms. They proceed from, it as their basis, and complete it, on empirical grounds, by the general division of our inclinations into personal and social. The theories of theology, and still more of metaphysics, were, in a special degree, unable to give its due prominence to this last idea. But it is a conception which is so self- evident as to overcome all philosophical sophisms, where there has been no mental cultivation. Such is the natural province of morals. To systematize and develope it is the essential object of moral science. Morals, as all the other branches of real science, are occupied in the main with determining the general laws of the commonest phenomena ; as, for instance, chemistry mainly studies the laws of combustion and fermentation. Although moral science was a subject which theology could not adequately handle, we must not pass over without its due notice the attempt made at the beginning of Catholicism by its real founder. The object was to meet the want of a system created by the new religious teaching. The great St. Paul, in his general doctrine of the permanent struggle between nature and grace, stated, though in an imperfect form, and solved in his own way, the whole moral problem, THE DOCTRINE. 251 not merely as far as regards its practical difficalty, but also as a theoretic question. The value of the solution he invented lay in its offering provisionally a compensation for a radical defect in monotheism. Monotheism is irreconcileable with the existence in our nature of the instincts of benevolence, the inclinations which lead all creatures to a mutual union, instead of devoting themselves separately to their Creator. In spite of all the flaws inherent in such a theory, its development in the Middle Ages is really the only great advance made by moral science between the period of its rudimentary state in the early theocratic times and its recent formation into a Positive science. Its form in the Middle Ages was at any rate a better embodiment of the main results of the good sense of mankind than the lamentable ontology which guided men in the gradual dissolution of Catholicism. Hence the Mystics of the fifteenth century, and above all, the admirable author of the hmtaUon, are the only thinkers in whom, before Positivism, you can trace a really general view of human nature. The metaphysical concep- tion of that nature is in all cases extremely de- fective. When I remind you of St. Paul's moral doctrine, so justly dear to you in your youth, it is not merely that I wish to honour an attempt which is now too generally undervalued. It was a pro- visional substitute for the Positive theory of human nature, which could not be formed till after a long period of objective preparation. But more than this, it spontaneously prepared the way for the 252 SECOND PABT. Positive theory, by marking out its systematic domain. It was under its influence that, even prior to the foundation of sociology, from the true scientific point of view, a decisive attempt was made to con- stitute moral .science. The attempt was not suc- cessful, but it was made immediately after the rise of the philosophy of biology. The first step was to establish, in this highest province of theory, a general harmony between the statical and dynamical points of view. It was necessary for this to determine the seat of our chief functions. The metaphysical view was a mere con-., fusion. It made the intellect supreme, and assigned it the brain. But the reason of mankind had broken through the mists of philosophical specula- tion. It held a different doctrine at any rate as to our inclinations, especially as to our personal inclinations. It was guided on this point by their spontaneous eneigy. The philosophers of antiquity sanctioned the distinction between them by placing them, though vaguely, in the different viscera of onr nutritive system. Still, no organ was set apart for our instincts of sympathy, and science, agreeing with theology, always spoke of the passions as if we had none but bad ones. Besides, the intellect remained undivided, and its subordination to the feelings found no expression in the theory. I have given you this historical introductioik, that you may duly appreciate the admirable effort of genius by which Gall founded the Positive theory of human nature. He was unable however to con- THE DOCTTRINE. 253 struct it in such a way as to secure its efficiency. To do so required sociology. He gave a powerful impulse however by laying down two general principles, the one dynamical, the other statical. They are closely connected, and will always be the basis of the true study of the soul and the brain. Gall showed that our higher fanctions, mental and moral, were plural, and that they all had their seat in the brain. The several regions of the brain must, then, correspond to the real distinctness between them. Gall fell into many important errors, especially in regard to the intellect They were the result of a superficial analysis and an empirical determination of the position of the different organs. But he succeeded in giving an adequate idea of th6 general method of analyzing our compound exis- tence, and he even succeeded in establishing the fact that we have benevolent inclinations. The imaginary conflict between nature and grace — ^the conception of St. Paul — ^is for the future abandoned. And we replace it by the real opposition between the poste- rior part of the brain, the seat of our personal in- stincts, and its anterior region, the seat both of our sympathetic impulses and our intellectual faculties, which however have distinct positions. Such is the indestructible basis on which, as the founder of Posi- tive religion, I proceeded to construct my systematic theory of the brain and the soul. I had previously constituted sociology, from which alone could come l^e inspiration I required. The Womtm, — I seem to get a glimpse, my father, 25i SECOND PART. of the wide philosophical importance of the two principles laid down hj Gall, the immediate pre- cursor of Positivism. The constant mutual action of our feelings and our thoughts, as well as the natural relations of our several instincts, could not be adequately accounted for, so wide apart were the positions respectively assigned them. On jowr theory of the brain, we can at length form a con- ception of these important relations, and by its aid we can secure their greater constancy. Still, if we deprive the nutritive organs of any moral character, however alien such a character is to their merely physical function, we have a great omission to supply. How are we to accoimt for the undisputed connexion of these organs with our higher functions ? The reciprocal influence of man's physical and moral nature was exaggerated in the ancient hypothesis, but it seems unduly neglected in the modern view. The Priest. — Your reproach is only applicable, my daughter, to the cerebral theory in its rudimen- tary state. It is not applicable to its flnal state. In that final state these great relations are fully sys- tematized. We retain the true notions which so long accredited the old hypothesis, but we limit the influence of our nutritive system to our iustincts properly so called. We do not allow that our in- tellectual functions, or even our impulses to action, have any direct participation in that influence. The speculative and the active regions of the brain communicate through the nerves only with the senses and the muscles. That communication gives THE DOCTRINE. 255 US the perception of the outer world and the power of modifying it. On the other hand, the affective region, which forma the largest mass of the brain, has no direct communication with the outer world. It is only indirectly connected with it through its relations with the intellectual and active regions. But besides this connexion with the other parts of the brain, special nerves bring the affective region into the closest relation with the most important organs of our nutritive system, in consequence of the necessary subordination of our personal instincts to the lowest type of life, that which we have in common with the plant. If this general correspon- dence shall admit, as there is reason for hoping, of a sufficient specification in detail, it will furnish powerful means for the reciprocal improvement of man's moral and physical natura TJiS Woman, — ^This Positive conception of human nature seems to me, my father, quite in agreement with the experience of mankind, especially in that it rests the unity of man on the constant subordina- tion of the intellect to the heart. You had ah'eady explained to me, that of the two modes in which this preponderance of the aflfections might exist, the altruistic alone can secure for man, even as an individual, a complete and lasting unity, one however which it is more difficult to constitute than the egoistic unity. But in this theory of man's har- mony there is yet a serious difficulty. How are we to reconcile it with the first law of animal life? That law asserts the intermittent character of the 256 SECX>ND PART. whole life of relation, without allowing any excep- tion for the functions of the brain. True unity cannot be intermittent. The intellect and the activity can, and ought to, rest alternately, as ought the senses and muscles, which they respectively bring into play. But the functions of affection cannot be suspended. Can we ever cease to feel love towards ourselves and towards others ? The Priest — The direct connexion between the affective life and the nutritive life ought to lead you, my daughter, to see that the first is as con- tinuous as the second To harmonize this neces- sary continuity with the intermittent character common to the whole life of relation, all we have to do, is to consider the double structure of the brain. All the organs of the brain are, as the senses and muscles are, composed of two symme- trical portions, separate or contiguous, each of which can function whilst the other rests. Such an alternation allows the feelings a continuous exis- tence, in spite of the general intermittence of the brain. Sometimes the intellect functions in this way during sleep, if not by its organs of contem[)lation, the connexion of which with the senses is direct, at any rate by those of meditation, where the dependence on the senses is not immediate. This is the origin of dreams, states of temporary mental alienation, in which, as in madness, subjective impulses, without our will, get the upper hand. This occasional per- sistence of the intellectual functions during sleep enables us to understand the regular persistence of THE DOCTRINE. 257 the affective functions. Nay more, it furnishes us with an indirect evidence of such persistence. For our dreams always bear the stamp of the dominant instincts. Since the heart directs the intellect when we are awake, in spite of impressions from without, it must assert a greater power over it when these impressions are no longer felt. We may hope, then, that the cerebral theory will ulti- mately lead us to a right interpretation of dreams, and even enable us to modify them, so realizing the wish of antiquity, which at the time was pre- mature. The Womcm. — I should, my father, have an un- satisfactoiy conception of the Positive theory of human nature, unless, after explaining the general relations of the heart, the intellect, and the cha- racter, you show me the systematic division of each of the three into their primary functions, beyond which no further reduction is possible. The Priest, — You have this division, my daughter, in the descriptive system of the brain, which I lay before you. {See Synopsis (7, cU the end of the volume.) You must become as familiar with it as with our encyclopedic synopsis. Though longer than that, it will be less difficult. Any person of sufficient age, especially a woman, must soon feel the reality of our analysis ; for by its very nature, it rests entirely on observations within the reach of every one. If special and difficult contemplations were indispen- sable for its verification, that would be enough to prove it defective. It required great efforts to 258 SECOND PART. construct this synopsis. But that in no way affects 'its use, especially for those who have escaped oor classical education. The difficulty of construction depended less on the nature of the problem than on the prevalence of false theories. It was the earliest sphere of our intellectual exertions, and jet it was destined to be the last subjected to tke gradual process of harmonizing the theoretical with the practical reason. But at length it has under- gone the process, and with such success that the fundamental harmony of the two leads to greater progress in this department than in any other. My classification of the organs of the brain offers you throughout a fresh application of the universal principle of decreasing generality, the principle which you saw was the foundation of the whole encyclo- pedic hierarchy. You may trace it most clearly in the case of the instincts, as they are more numerous and more marked in character. Their decrease in generality, in proportion as they become nobler and less energetic, is fully verified in the whole of the animal series. In the lowest stage we find simply the fundamental instinct of individual preservation. There is as yet no complete separation of the sexes. Then, in succession, we see the other instincts added, first the personal, then the social, in the order indi- cated by my system of the brain. Man is the limit of the series. This verification from comparative zoology is sufficient to prove the truth of my analy- sis. It often aided me in working out that analysis. Not that, however, I had recourse to any oth^r THE DOCTBINE. 259 gaidance than that of sociology. Id the highest animals in our series, the mammiferous animals and birds, we certainly find a complete combination of all our higher functions. The difference is merely one of degree. See how the greatest of poets had a pre- sentiment oi this fundamental resemblance between man and the animals. In the midst of his sublime descriptions of Paradise, Dante introduces this ad- mirable picture of the moral existence of a bird — Come Taugello intra Tamate fronde Posato al nido de' saoi dolci nati. La Dotte che le cose ci naBconde, Che per veder gli aspetti desiati, E per trovar lo cibo onde li pasca. In che i gravi labor gli son aggrati, Previene '1 tempo in su Taperta frascay E con ardente affetto il sole aspetta Fiso guardando pur che I'alba nasca. Dante, Parad. xxiii. 1 — 9. E'en as the bird, who 'midst the leaiy bower Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night, With her sweet brood ; impatient to descry Their wished looks, and to bring home their food. In the fond quest unconscious of her toil ; She, of the time prevenient, on the spray. That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze Expects the snn, nor ever, till the dawn, Removeth from the east her eager ken. Caey's Translation. In this charming description an animal very far removed from man offers us, equally with man, the normal concurrence of feeling, intelligence, and aotivity. The feeling of brotherhood between man and the other animals is more precious even for the s2 260 SECOND PART. heart than for the intellect. For it extends our sympathies beyond our own species, and so acts as a check on any disposition to cruelty in our too frequent conflicts with the subordinate races. The Woman. — I am fond of studying animals, my father, with the view of tracing in them essen- tially the same impulses as in man. But I suppose that the synopsis of the bittin is independent of any such verification. There are minds which would not accept it. The Priest, — Even when confined to man, our observations, my daughter, a#8 really sufficient to remove all uncertainty as to any part of the Positive theory of the soul and brain. Even the analysis of the intellect, more delicate than the two others, inas- much as its divisions are less marked, may be veri- fied by an appeal to facts of daily experience. It is sufficient to compare the two sexes to see the capital distinction, that between the organs of con- templation and those of meditation. For the first of these two functions is more developed in woman, the second in man. Similarly we separate the two organs of meditation, by remarking that your sex is more adapted for connecting facts, mine for co- ordinating them. Were our savans as sagacious as most women, and as clear as women of erroneous views, the strong evidence of comparative zoology would be superfluous. The Womom. — My first inspection of the descrip- tive system of the brain has given rise to some doubts, my father. These I should like to have THE DOCTRINE. 261 deared up before I begin its study. The instincts, as a whole, s^m placed in their right light, except the maternal instinct. This I expected to find under the head of altruism, not under that of egoism. The Priest, — You must distinguish, my daughter, between the maternal instinct and the influence that iDstinct may have on our sympathies. Such an influence is not inherent in it, as is seen by the fact that it is often wanting. The observation of animals leaves us no doubt as to the necessity of this dis- tinction, for we find ]|LStances of the maternal rela- tion in animals, at too low a point in the scale to have the sentiments connected with that relation in the human species. But you can remove all uncer- tainty on the point without going beyond your own species. However valuable the improvement effected by civilization, particularly modem civiliza- tion, in this instinct, as a consequence of the in- creasing influence of society on the family, it is yet possible, in daily experience, to detect its true nature in women of weak sympathies, where it stands out more distinctly. In such cases we see that the child, for the mother no less than for the fifcther, is regarded directly in the light of a mere personal possession, on which they may exercise their love of power, or by which they may gratify their avarice, far more than as the object of any disinterested aflection. Only, as the relations which spring from, the fact of maternity give a strong stimulus to the instincts of benevolence, they spon- 262 SECOND PABT. taneonsly ai(Mn the deyelopment of those iustinots wherever the nature is kindly, but they never create sympathy. In feict its previous existence is implied. When we compare the different states of society, either in the present or in the pait, we see the true character of an instinct, which, previous to its im- provement by the providence of man, often leads parents to sell, or even to kill their childreC on purely selfish grounds. Besides, look around you, and see the principles on which professions are habitually chosen, or marriages made, and ask your- self whether it is not the ^oism of the parents^ and not their love of their children, that is the prevailing motive since the anarchy of modem times has weakened the influence of society on the fiamily. The sexual instinct was sometimes honoured with a similar mistake, though not by your sex. Women are in general not blind to its selfish character. But men confused it, as they did the maternal, with the sympathies of which, when under due control, it stimulates the growth. All our personal instincts, not excepting that of destruction, may exert a similar influence. But this influence is not misun- derstood in the other cases, as it is less direct and less marked. This general relation makes it easier to solve the great problem for man — ^viz., how to subordinate egoism to altruism. For the greater energy of the personal instincts may thus serve to compensate the natural weakness of our instincts of sympathy, by originating the impulse which they THE* DOCTRINE. staoid in need o^ but do not find in themselves. Ouoe set in motion, the benevolent affection per- sists and grows by virtue of the immense superiority of its attraction, after the coarser stimulant has ceased to act. j^The moral superiority of woman often supersedes in her case the need of such a pre- paration. She is ready to love, as soon as she finds obWts to love, without seeking in love any selfish gratification. The coarser nature of man can hardly ever d]q>en8e with this indirect impulse. But par- ticularly is this the case in regard to public life, where we want a noble direction for pride and vanity. The Woman, — ^As for the intellectual: functions, I am surprised, my father, not to find in your synopsis of the brain the faculties that have become classical — memory, judgment, imagination, cine cannot be allowed to set aside numerous and decisive cases of experience, which we find fully warranted by the true theory of human nature. The alleged necessity for gratifying the sexual in- stinct is disproved by the fact that, in most cases, during the whole of the Middle Ages, those who submitted to the discipline of Catholicism and Chivalry overcame it. Even in the midst of our modem anarchy, there are not wanting individual instances to prove that it is possible to remain pure until marriage. A life of labour, and still more the constant influence of family afiection, are gene- rally sufficient protection against such dangers. In very rare cases they are insurmountable ; and these THE LIFE. 291 rare cases have been made a standard by physicians wholly unvereed in moral struggles. The young disciples of Positivism will be trained to the control of their sexual instinct, by an early struggle with that of nutrition. The two, it must be remembered, are closely connected, as is seen by the juxtaposition of their respective organs. Lastly, you are aware that a deep affection was always the best preserva- tive against libertinage. The mother then, finally, will secure her son against the vices you fear. For she will lead him to choose a worthy object on which to centre the personal affections which must determine his home destiny. She will not wait till such affection come upon him abruptly as the result of some chance contact. The Womcm, — I feel the full value of your ex- planation, my father. One point remains, and then the whole system of Positive education will be clear. I refer to a question which concerns my own sex in particular. I am aware, by what has been already said, that if mothers are to direct the education of their children at home, they must themselves in due measure have received encyclo- pedic instruction. Indeed, with an exception here and there, none must be without it. Unless the Positive faith become quite universal, it can never gain the systematic ascendancy requisite for. its social mission. Besides, the mother will be unable to retain her moral superintendence over education, if her ignorance exposes her to the ill-concealed con- u2 292 THIRD PART. tempt of a son puffed up with the pride of know- ledge. Tet I can hardly think that women are to follow the same course of study as men, and under the same masters, though at separate times. The Priest, — ^You have your answer already, my daughter, in the great Molidre. He lays it down that your sex should have clear ideas on all points.* This in fact is the proper aim of our encyclopedic instruction. It is quite free from the character of detail or specialty, which is so justly repugnant to you in the existing education, and which is as little suited, as a general rule, for men as for women. Positive education will be general, and common to all. From this conmion stock the theoretical or practical man may by him- self draw the further consequences which his own special object renders desirable. As a general rule, he will need no private instruction — ^granted that he has duly gone through the training which all equally are to undergo. The general plan of our novitiate is common to both sexes. In the case of your sex, it admits of one reduction. The two weekly lectures, which men must attend during their two first years, may, for women, be reduced to one. Women have not to mix in active life. They may be content, there- fore, in mathematical science, with a logical rather than a scientific training. For this object one lec- ture a week will suffice, as in the rest of their * See p. 69. THB LIFE. 293 seven years' course. The only thing requisite will be a greater philosophical effort on the part of the professor. As for the professors being the same for both sexes, to make them different would tend to throw discredit equally on teacher and pupil ; not to say, that it would be contrary to the synthetical spirit which must be the characteristic of the Positive priesthood The more entirely to exclude all dis- persive tendencies, it is important that each priest 1 . / should in succession teach each of the seven sciences. The result must be this great social advantage, that during their long education he is in unbroken relsr tion with the same pupils, who will owe to him the whole of their instruction in science. The permanence of this relation will facilitate the after influence of our priesthood on the whole of practical life. Now, on similar grounds, both sexes must draw their education from the same sources. If the High Priest of Humanity allows the priests, as a general rule, to reside permanently in the same place, all family disputes will be more easily settled, as all the members of the fiimily will be personally under the influence of the same masters. Priests who could only address one sex would be incom- petent for their social office, to say nothing of the intellectual incompetence which such a state would imply. The Woman. — I can now, my father, estimate the social influence which the priesthood of Positivism 294 THIBD PART. will derive from its fundamental office, if it ade- quately discharge the duties of that office. Still I am not clear that, on this basis alone, it can acquire sufficient authority. Would you then give me a direct statement of the various means it has at its disposal to secure, as far as it is possible to do so, the harmony of society ? Ths Friest. — ^The Positive priesthood has no means, my daughter, but such as are the result of the educational system. Hightly to estimate them, we must remember that the last year of the Positive novitiate is entirely devoted to moral science. This last branch of instruction will be always divided into two equal parts, a theoretic and a practical part. In the first, all the essential laws of human nature will be shown to rest on a solid foundation —on the whole system, that is, of our conceptions relative to the world, to life, and to society. This basis laid, we shall be able to rest the general rules of conduct applicable to the individual, the family, and the state, on a definitive system of real demon- stration. In that system, the duties of each of the four powers which are necessary constituents of human providence will be stated in detaiL The determining these duties, in which we finally sum up the results of the Positive education, may have a great effect, in consequence of the moral disposi- tion of those whom we thus address at the close of their initiation, and who are yet free from the errors which active life involves. The system of these practical rules answers two THE LIFE. 295 piirpofies in eacli case. Thej are a guide for a man's own action. They are a standard for his judgment of others. This second use of them is lees exposed than the first to the disturbing action of the passions. For our passions seldom prevent va from appreciating the faults of others^ however blind they make us to our own. An egoist is the last person to tolerate egoism in others. It leads to a competition which he cannot get rid of. We thus learn to distinguish the two modes in | which the spiritual discipline of Positiyism may be exercised, the direct and the indirect. The priest- hood's main effort is directed to change the guilty person, by acting first on his hearty then on his intellect. This is at once the purest and most efficacious method, though its results are less strik- ing. It will always be the only method perfectly consonant to the nature of the spiritual power. For the spiritual power disciplines the will by per- / suasion and by conviction. It should have no in- V fluence at all for coercion. But this direct method ' is often found inadequate, though wisely applied and during a long time. In such cases the priest- hood, not being able to correct the internal tenden- cies, proceeds to attack them indirectly, by calling in the opinion of others. It does not convert the criminal, it controls him J by the judgment of others. That this its indirect mode of action is perfectly legitimate, cannot be denied. It rests in all cases on a simple judgment of the conduct of the person who is judged No / 296 THIBD PAST. one can bar such a judgment For erery one con- curs in it, aa directed against others, and it is based on a system of doctrine which has the assent of all, and an assent freely given. However, the criminal who does not allow that he is wrong, or whose will has undergone no change, is thus made to feel the pressure of a real coercive force. Nor can he object, as the coercive force is simply a moral forces If others were to abstain from judging, they would in reality be the oppressed party, and that without having in any way deserved to be so. Legitimate, however, as such indirect method evidently is, we must only have recourse to it when the direct method has been tried and &dled« Supposing recourse to it inevitable, it admits of three degi*ee8. The priesthood begins, as a &rst step, with a simple remonstrance within the family cii*cle, before the relations and friends called together for the purpose. The second step is public, the piiesthood proclaims its condemnation in the temple of Humanity. The third and last stage is, excom- munication from society, either for a time or for ever. Without outstepping the just limits of its authority, the spiritual power may go so far as to pronounce, in the name of Humanity, that a falae servant is absolutely unworthy, and, the sentenoe once uisued, the subject of it becomes incapable of sharing in the duties and benefits of human society, The priesthood may abuse this power, to gratifjr unjust animosity, or from a blind or mistaken zeal. Its abuse will bring a speedy punishments THD UFE. 297 Exoommunicatioxi can have no force but such as it deriyes from the free sanction of the public. If then this public stand neutral, the blow will fail, and those who aim it will naturally incur discredit from the fidlure. When the general opinion strongly supports the priesthood in its condemnation, then this spiritual discipline will be efficacious to a degree of which we can form no conception from the past. For in the Positive rigime the union attained will be very Deut greater than was previously possible in the absence of a Positive education. There will be occasions when, however rich or powerful he may be, the criminal will, without any loss of property, see one by one his dependents, hia servants, his nearest relatives even, drop off from him. In spite of his wealth, it may well be, in an extreme case, that he will be reduced to provide himself his own food, as no one will serve him. He will be free, it is true, to leave his country. But he will only escape the condemnation of the Universal priesthood by taking refuge with popula* tions which have not yet adopted the Positive &ith. Ultimately even this refuge will be closed, as the £dth will spread over the whole of the earth. For- tunately, so extreme a case of religious discipline -will always be exceptional. It was necessary to state it here as an indication of the efficiency of the Positive system of life. The Wmnan, — ^Allowing its full strength to this moral power, it is hardly possible, my father, that it should ever entirely supersede the necessity of i 298 THIBO FABT. recourse to temporal compression/ whether directed against property or life. The Priest, — In truth, my daughter, legislation properly so called will always be necessary, to make up for the inadequacy of mere moral force in cases of uigent social need. Conscience and opinion will be often powerless to prevent daily violations of right. In such cases the temporal power must step in with some physical repression. Besides these common and slight deviations, the result in the main of the inaction of our good instincts, we shall be obliged to have recourse to the temporal power for the repression of the more serious evils result- ing j&om the active predominance of our bad in- stincts. In the human species, as in the other animal species, we have instances of thoroughly vicious individuals, for whom correctives are as useless as they are undeserved. In the case of such exceptional organizations, society in its own defence will not stop short of the destruction, by a solemn act, of every such vicious organ, when once its com- plete un worthiness has been sufficiently proved by decisive acts. It is only a false philanthropy that can lead us to lavish on scoundrels a pity and a care which would find much better objects in so many honest victims of the imperfect arrangements of society. Capital punishment, therefore, and d fortiori, the total or partial confiscation of property, will never entirely be given up. Still such remedies naturally become of less frequent use as humanity THE UFS. 29^ advances. Our constant advance in feeling, intelli- gence, and activity, has a tendency to make spiritual discipline more and more efficacious, as compared •with temporal repression, though we can never -wholly dispense with this last The Woman* — In this general view of the rigime of man, you seem, my Either, to* omit the cases in which the moral evil should have its source in the priesthood itself jTAe Frieat — In such a case, my daughter, the spiritual discipline follows the course we have marked out, though somewhat irregularly. For moral science is of universal application, and points out the duties of the priesthood as much as those of any other class. Nay, it even gives them greater prominence, as is natural from their greater impor^ tance. There is moreover a natural tendency in the public to blame more freely the priests as the judges of the rest. They are the object of the secret hatred of the patrician body, of a cold esteem on the part of the proletariat*, and of no deep sympathy, as a general rule, on the part of any but women. Finally, the Positive faith is, by its nature, always open to discussion, and so prevents the rise of any prestige sufficient to bar criticisms when really necessary. However great the veneration usually paid to the priests of Humanity, it can but be the result of their due discharge of an office, the duties of which are weU defined. And the intellectual and moral con- 300 THIRD PABT. ditionSy to which the spiritual power requires all others to conform, may be urged against it, in its turn, in case of its feiilure. If, as we suppose will be the commonest case, the perversion is partial, the priesthood is competent to meet it by its own internal discipline. In case of its neglecting to do so, then every believer is competent to urge a reparation of the error. For by the fulness and accuracy which are the charac- teristics of the Positive £Btith, each individual can exercise for himself on his own responsibility, a species of irregular priesthood in such cases, which will be efficient if sanctioned by opinion. Lastly, supposing the corruption of our priesthood general, then it would not be long before a new one would arise to meet the want of society, one which would better fulfil the conditions required by a doctrine /'which is not exposed to adulteration, and which is always superior to its organs, whoever they may be. Thj& Womtm. — This leads me naturally, my father, %o ask you to end this general survey by pointing out the actual constitution of the Positive priest- hood. The JPm»fcr— You will at once feel, my daughter, that the first condition required by its fundamental object is, that it should entirely renounce aU tem- poral power, and even all property. Every one who aspires to the priesthood must, at the outset, solemnly contract an engagement to this effect, at the age of twenty-eight, when he receives the sacra- THE LIFE. 301 ment of destination. The priests of Positivism must not even inherit property from their families. The object is that they may keep clear of all temptation, also that they may leave capital in the hands of those who can employ it to good purpose. The contemplative class must, as a body, be main- tained by the active. At first, they will look to the free contributions of believers, afterwards to y assistance from the public treasury, when the faith is universally adopted. The priesthood must have nothing of its own, land, houses, nor revenues. All that is allowed is its annual budget, the amount of which must depend on the temporal power. The generality of views and the generosity of feeling, which must always be the distinctive marks of the priesthood, are absolutely incompatible with the ideas of detail and the disposition to pride in- herent in all practical power. If you would restrict yourself to giving counsel, you must put it out of your power to command, even by your wealth. Otherwise, so poor is mau*s nature, we are often inclined to make force take the place of demonstra- tion. This condition for the priestly office was felt and carried to its sublimest exaggeration by the admirable saint who, in the thirteenth century, endeavoured, but in vain, to regenerate Catholicism, which was already exhausted. But St. Francis of Assisi forgot that, in prescribing to his disciples a1:>solute poverty, he was distracting them from their proper office, by the needful daily care for their subsistence. 302 THIRD FABT. There must be some limit to poverty, and to assign the proper limits, I will name the yearly payments for each of the several degrees of the y priesthood, adaptuig them to the actual rate of ex- pense usual in France, which is a mean on this point between the different nations of Western Europe. This summary statement will serve, at the same time, to describe the internal organization of the Positive clergy, an outline of which I gave whilst explaining the worship. Generally stated, the organization of the Posi- tive clergy requires three successive orders: the / aspirants, admitted at twenty-eight ; the vicars, or \! substitutes, at thirty-five ; and the priests proper, at forty-two. The first of these, the aspirants, with no natural limit to their numbers, are considered to have a real spiritual calling; but they do not as yet belong to the spiritual power, and they exercise none of its functions. Their free renunciation, therefore, of any ' inheritance must be simply provisional, as is their stipend, fixed at 3000 francs, or 120^. They do not live with the priests, but are under regular surveillance as to their work and conduct. The vicars are irrevocably members of the priestly body, though limited to the functions of teaching and preaching, except in cases of urgency, where other powers may be delegated. They \ must definitively renounce all property, and they ' must, besides, be married before admission. They live with their families, but apart from the priests, THE LIFE. 303 in the philosophical presbytery which adjoins each temple of Humanity, parallel to the Positive school The class which is to guide all other classes in influencing the intellect by the heart, must itself furnish the best type that man can furnish of moral deyelopment. It must therefore give full play to the home affections, without which the love of the race is an illusion. Marriage then, which other citizens may or may not contract, is obligatory on -the priests. For the priestly office cannot be duly performed unless the man be constantly under the influence of woman. Of coui'se that influence may be objective or subjective. The better to test its priestly body on this point, Positive religion re- quires even its vicars to fulfll this obligation. This second rank, which, with exceptions for failure, always leads to the third, secures a yearly stipend of240;. During the seven years which elapse before he is full priest, every vicar must teach all the seven encyclopedic sciences, and exercise his powers of preaching. After that> he becomes a true priest, and may discharge, in &,milies or in cities, his three offices, of advising, consecrating, and regulating, which are the social characteristics of the Positive clergy. In this flnal state, his annual stipend is raised to 480^., besides the expenses of visiting his diocese. Every philosophical presbytery has seven priests and three vicars. Their residences may be changed by the High Priest. But such change must always / 304 THIBD PABT. have some really serious ground to justify it. The number of these priestly colleges will be two thousand for the whole Western world. This gives a functionary for every six thousand inhabitants, or one hundred thousand for the whole earth. The rate may appear too low ; but it is really adequate for all the service required. For it must be re- membered, that the doctrine of Positivism seldom demands systematic explanations : for these we substitute the free intervention of women and prole- taries. It is important to limit very strictly the priestly corporation, both to avoid superfluous ex- pense and to secure a better composition of the clerical body. The Womcm. — In your statement, I do not see, my father, the head which directs this vast body. The Frieat, — The doctrine and the office of the priesthood are such, my daughter, that it might function of itself, with the aid of public opinion. /Still it really does require one supreme head. The / supreme power is vested in the High Priest of \l Humanity, whose natural residence will be Paris as the metropolis of the regenerated West His stipend is five times that of ordinary priests, 2400^., and he must have besides an allowance for the expense necessarily involved by his vast labours. He is the sole governor of the Positive clergjr. He ordains its members, he changes their residence, he revokes their commission, all on his own moral responsibility. The main object of his care is to maintain the priestly character in its integrity THE LIFE. 305 against all temporal seductions. Every servile or seditious priest, who aims at temporal power by flattering the patriciate or the proletariate, will be absolutely banished from the priesthood. Such an OBe may, in certain cases, find a place amongst its pensioners, supposing him to have scientific merits to justify the exception. To assist him in the discharge of his functions, the supreme head of Western Positivism is to have the aid of four national superiors, each of whom has a stipend of half the amount of his, 1200^. Under his direction, they guide their four respective churches, the Italian, the Spanish, the English, and the Crerman. As for France, the High Priest is the national superior, though he need not necessarily be a Frenchman, but may come from any one of the populations that are Positivist. The regular mode of replacing him is, as in the temporal order, by a successor whom he is to name himself. But in this case, such nomination must have the unanimous assent of the four national superiors. Supposing them divided in opinion, then the nomination must meet the wishes of the senior priests of the two thousand presbyteries. 306 THIBD FABT. CONVEESATION X. PRIVATE LIFE. The Womom. — ^At the close of oar last conversa- tion, I omitted to ask you, my &ther, what would be respectiyely the subjects of the two remaining conferences on the PodtiTe system of life. I felt that the two halves of the practical domain of our religion must have essentially the same subdivisions, corresponding to the existence of which the worship is to be the ideal representation, the rigime, the guide. My study of the worship, then, indicated the plan on which the rigime is to be studied. We must begin with private life, and then proceed to public. The former is our subject for to-day, and I feel that you will here, as in the worship, separate our individual existence from our family Hfe. The Priest, — ^The life of the individual is nor- mally the basis of all man's conduct Its regenera- tion by Positivism consists, my daughter, in placing it on a social footing, and insisting on its social character. No theological system, and monotheism less than any, could effect so radical a change. ITet . men have always had an instinctive presentiment that such a change was necessary, and have looked for its introduction. Positivism can effect it, and that without recurring to any sentimental exaggera- tion. It rests the change solely on an accurate . appreciation of the real state of the case. Such an THE UFE. 307 appreciation leads us to see that in reference to man and the order of man's world, by its being more synthetical than any other, you must treat the whole before the parts, you must consider society as prior to the individual. It is true that every one of man's functions necessarily requires an individual organ. But it is no less true that it is by its nature a social function, since the share of the individual agent is always subordinate to that of his contemporaries and pre- decessors. The degree of concurrence of the two cannot be distinguished. Everything we have be- longs to Humanity. For everything we have comes from her — ^life, fortune, talents, information, ten- derness, energy, &c, Metastasio, a poet never sus- pected of subversive tendencies, puts into the mouth of Titus this decisive sentence, a sentence worthy of an emperor — So che tutto b di tutti; e che nd pure # Di nascer merito chi d'esser nato Crede Bolo per se. Clem, de Tito, act II. sc. x. I know that all is from all ; and that he deserved not to be born, who thinks that he is bom for himself alone. Similar anticipations might be found in the oldest writings. Thus we see that Positivism, when it condenses all human moraUty into Umngfor otherSy is, in reality, only giving a systematic form to the universal instinct. As a previous step, it places the scientific spirit at the social point of view, which x2 308 THIRD PART. was unattainable by the synthesis of either theology or metaphysics. The whole system of Positive education, its edu- cation of the intellect as well as that of the affec- tions, will familiarize us thoroughly with the idea of our complete dependence on Humanity. We shall thus be led duly to feel that we are all neces- sarily destined to serve her constantly. In the preparatory period of life, when incapable of useful action, every one owns his inability to supply his own chief wants. He sees and acknowledges that he depends on others for their habitual gratifica- tion. At the beginning, he looks on himself as in- debted for their supply to his own family only. That feeds him, takes care of him, instructs him, m their homes by the cruelty of Western nations. Even from the social point of yiew, and this is less favourable to fetichism, it has rendered- im-* portant services, which the Positive worship will duly honour. In the nomad period of man's ex« istence, its tendency to the worship of external nature exerts a wholesome moderating influence on the destructive instinct. That instinct works blindly, and leads the hunter or the pastoral tribes to destroy on a vast scale the animals or vegetables in order to prepare the ground for man's action. Such destruction is necessary, but should not be without check. But the highest service rendered by fetichism is, its unconscious guidance of the race through the first social revolution, the revolution which is the basis of all subseijuent ones, our tran- sition fr^m the nomad to settled life. This great change, of which we but little see either the dif- ficulty or the importance, certainly belongs to fetichism, and is the consequence of the deep attach- ment it fosters for our native land. The chief imperfection of fetichism is, that not till a late period does it allow the rise of a priest- hood qualified to direct man's future progress. The worship of fetichism, even when highly developed, requires at first no priest. For it is, by its nature essentially a private worship; each one may wor- ship without a mediator beings which are almost always within his reacL Ultimately, however, a THE GENERAL HI8T0BY OF RELIGION. 377 priesthood arises. This is when the stars, which axe long without honour, come to be the principal fetiches, and, as such, common to vast populations. They iire sieen to be beyond our reach. Hence a special class is formed whose duties are to transmit the homage of men, and to interpret the will of the fetiches. In this its last stage, fetichism borders on polytheism, the origin of which in all cases was astrolatry. This is clear from the names of the greater gods, which are dlways borrowed from the stars most adapted to/ perpetuate the fictity>us synthesis. / ITie Woman, — ^Although the passage from one qrstem to the other cost no effort, it seems to me, my father, the most difficult change for man's in- tellect in the preparatory period. It requires us to pass by an abrupt .transition from activity to inertia in our general conception of matter, otherwise there would be no motive for the exertion of divine power. The Priest, — It 14 however, my daughter, a na- tural step to introduce the agency of beings external to matter. The mind takes this step spontaneously when it reaches the second period of childhood and passes from the contemplation of beings to that of events, the only basis for scientific meditations. Proceeding onwards, on the method originally adopted, we consider phenomena as existing simul- taneously in many bodies, and we still attribute them to a will. But we do not identify each body with a separate will, rather we consider that one 378 CONCLUSIOK. will directs many bodies. Such a will mnst of necessity be external. We must £a,miliarize our- selyes with this intellectual change. Nor is this difficult, as we have frequent opportunities of observing it at the corresponding period in the growth of each individual mind. Be this as it may, polytheism has been the prin- cipal agent in the whole preparation of man. This is true of his mental evolution, but especially true of his social. In the first place polytheism alone gims completeness to the primitive philosophy by eirtending it to our highest functions. These func- tions shortly become the ^eivourite occupation of the gods. For fetichism in the main had reference to the external world, and could not distinctly com- prehend our intellectual and moral nature. On the contrary, these were the source from which it drew its explanations of physical fsicts. Bat when we introduce supernatural beings we can adapt them to this new sphere, and it soon becomes the chief one. At the same time polytheism necessitates a priesthood in the strict sense, or rather it consoli- dates and developes the priesthood which astrolatry had originated. Polytheism offers a variety of forms, but in all its forms alike we can trace two institutions, which have a close connexion with one another. These are : the complete union of the spiritual and tem- poral powers, and the slavery of the industrial population. The first is eaaly explained. It was the sponta- THE OENEBAL HISTORY OF RELIGION. 379 n^otis result of all the requirements of the intellect, and all the wants, of society. In the first place^ it is impossible to limit yourself to giving advice if you speak in the name of a power that has no limits. The suggestions of such a power naturally become commands. In the second place, the ap* pointed task of the preliminary regime was to develope all man's powers j it was reserved for the fiboial state wisely to regulate them when developed, on a comprehensive view of this long apprentice- ship. In the preparatory period then, there nwist be a concentration of all the powers of society, in order to overcome the indiscipline natural to man in his primitive state. Had the spiritual and temporal powers been separated, such separation would have been a great hindrance to the attain- ment of the object of polytheism, by thwarting the progr*s of conquest. For the function of polytheism was active. Lastly, the scientific concep- tions of men were so alien to their practical views, that to neutralize the defects of both, it was requisite that both should equally influence the intellect of all. On the other hand, this indispen- sable concentration was eflfected quite instinctively. This is shown by the inability to conceive a real separation of counsel from command which we can trace even in the philosophers who were most pre- pared to admit such an idea. A similar remark is applicable. to slavery in the ancient world. It waa always considered necessary to society, till a period just previous, to the final S80 doNGLUSIOK. emanoipatioiL The slave, as we are renmided by the etymology of the Latin name, was at first a prisoner of war, saved to labour, instead of being killed or eaten. Polytheism is a conciliatory system, and the slave oonld keep his own worship, in subordination of course to the religion of his conqueror, who became his spiritual and temporal leader. The social con- dition of the slave, to which all were more or less liable by the vicissitudes of war, was at that time so iiatuial that men often accepted it without being taken in war ; as a general rule, however, war was the origin of slavery. The institution of slavery was in two ways the basis of ancient civilization. Without it, conquest on a large scale was impossible Secondly, it ao- customed men to labour. For laboxur was the only way in which the slave could better his^sition, as it had been the condition on which he had been given his life. Under all these aspects it is impos- jiible to compare the slavery of antiquity with the ephemeral and monstrous form of it which is a consequence of modem colonization. The Woman. — ^Afber this general survey of the r^ptma of polytheism I need, my father, a summary of the principal forms in which it existed. The Priest. — ^Its primary and most charac- teristic form, my daughter, is theocracy pro- perly so called. The conservative polytheism to which we give this name is the only complete organization possible in the preparatory period of THE QENERAIi HISTOBT OF RELIGION. 381 man's existence. All the other phases of poly- theism are but modifications of this primitiYe system ; from it they draw such partial consistency as they have^ though their tendency is to break it up. Theocracy rests on two institutions which are closely connected with each other. All professions equally are hereditary ; this is the first ; the uni- versal suprecil^y of the priestly caste is the second. Without the fi^t, the progress made would soon be lost. Nor is th^re any other system which could allow the slow ii^troduction of secondaiy modifica- tions; so long, that is, as education was given rather by means of imitatio|i than by direct instruction, from there being' no separation between theory and practice. Hereditary professions then were neces- sary; but the whole population would have been broken up into castes completely independent one of another, had not the supremacy of the priesthood been there to organize the state. It bound all castes together with a bond which they revered, one which was naturally susceptible of a wide extensioi^ This primitive theocratic constitution is so com- pletely in accordance with our nature, that it is still the organization of the largest existing popu-^ lations, though it has been subjected to disturbing influences of the greatest magnitude. It was uni- versally adopted. But it could only attain such durability in countries where the development of intelligence and industry had preceded that of the warlike spirit. Systematic military activity acts in all cases as a spontaneous solvent of theocracy, for 382 coNCLusioy. it places the soldier above the priest. The priests made great efforts to avert this result by directing the military energy on distant expeditions, the invariable consequent of which was a permanent colonization. Still, notwithstanding this policy, the theocracy in all cases succumbed to the dominion of a military patriciate, but in succumbing it preserved the old manners' and customs. That it could ,do this is convincing evidence of the tenacious character of the regime, and by virtue of it we have at the present day actual theocracies to study. And the study of them in China and India, even though far advanced in decay, enables us to have a better understanding of ancient Egypt, the venerable mother of the civilization of Western Europe. We are enabled to appreciate, on a large scale, the social office of the priesthood in its manifold forms, as called upon to counsel, to con- secrate, to moderate, and to judge. And we may also see at the same time to what an extent the exercise of these its fundamental attributes was vitiated by command and wealth, though the assumption of power and the possession of wealth were necessary accompaniments of the first inter- ference of the intellect in the domain of feelin» and action. It will naturally surprise you that the theocratic system finds so small a place in the synopsis I have given you. The chief reason, as in the case of fetichism, is the concrete character of this histo- rical composition it is more within the province of THE GENERAL HISTOBY OF BELIGItx)^. 385 art than of science. Still, when dealing witii^ to system which has lefb so many memorials of alH^ kinds, a more detailed explanation is required. I would call your attention, then, to one of the noblest characteristics of tl^e true theocracy. It is a system in which the government is vested in a vast and permanent corporatioii ; so that the services it renders society are not coniected with the names of individuals. Had there i^t been this tendency to absorb the individual, the; various priestly colleges would often have been disturbed by the natural rivalries of the gods of polytheism. In one case, happily a solitary exception, theocracy is based on monotheism. In this c$se, that of the Jews, an extreme concentration jfchrows forward into full light the names of the inbre eminent leaders. Thus it was that the cdJui^ character of my synopsis forced me to choose MosW as the individual type of the theocratic regirnei though but a very im* perfect representative (Qf an organization which is essentially polytheistic. The Woman. — ^Your thoughtful and dispassionate admiration for theocracy shows me more clearly, my father, how profoundly unfair are the blind re- proaches it yet meets with from men who claim to be advanced thinkers. Listen to them, and you would think the primeval organization from which all others spring, and which has outlasted all others, was in all its stages an oppressive and degrading system. If so, it would The Womom, — Our last conversation lias shown me, my fether, the three great periods of transition through which we have necessarily passed since the Homeric times. I understand also their order of succession. But I still need a clearer understanding of the course of each and the connexion of the three, beginning with the Greek evolution. The Priest — ^The Greek period is one of im- perishable brilliancy. But, my daughter, if you place Greece and Rome side by side, and judge them by the standard of the influence each civilization had on .'its respective nation, you will regret that the contrast is unfavourable to Greece. In Roman history we are in contact with a constructive system, the work of the nation, in which all the citizens must take an active part, or the failure would be complete. In Greece the people is, in the main, passive. It forms a kind of pedestal for some few thinkers of real eminence. Their number is not above one hundred, in art, in philosophy, in science, from Homer and Hesiod to Ptolemy and Galen. In Rome a high degree of common action stamps the whole nation with a character of nobility, and the traces of that character are yet distin- guishable. In Greece the monstrous predominance of speculation over action led to the degradation of the people, which was sacrificed to it. And here 390 COKCLUSION. again the effects are yet quite traceable. In their last stage, the Greeks considered the Acuities of expression as the paramount object. It was their conquest by Borne that alone preserved the Greek cities from suc(^mbing to the tyranny of ^bme despicable rhetorician. There is but one fme period in the social ex* istence of these tribes which have been the object of such excessive admiration. Its duration was scarcely two centuries. Even during that time there were constant interruptions from their wretched internal disputes. The period I mean was that of their admirable struggle with the Persian empire. Defensive at the outset^ the war became ultimately (tensive. The issue was to vindicate from all forcible oompression on the part of the Persian theocracy the sixiall band of free thinkers, on whose existence depended, at the time, the intellectual destinies of Humanity. And even in this struggle the success is mainly due to some few citizens of pre-enbin^it merit. The several States constantly showed themselves ready to sacrifice the national defence to their mutual jealousies. This long process of intelleotual elaboration is divided into three periods of unequal length. Each of them is faithfully rq>resented in our calendar. The movement began with fat, and Homer is for all time the representative of art. It was natural that poetry, as at once by nature more independent of and yet more fettered by theocracy, should be the first to separate &om the parent stem, and lead THE GENERAL HISTORY OF RELIGION. 391 the way in the emancipation of the Western world. Poetry made the way clear for philosophy. In Thales and Pythagoras we have the first rudiments, but the incomparable Aristotle is its genuine re-' pres&ntative. He was so far abovi^ his age that it was not till the Middle Ages that he' could be appreciated. The value of his philosophical elabo- ration is imperishable, and the results obtained were so definitive as to force on all true thinkers the conviction that the limit Aristotle had reached could not be passed without a long Scientific pre- paration. The aim of suoh preparation should be the development of mathematics, as the primary basis of Positive philosophy. Under this convic- tion, the genius of the Greeks directed its chief attention to practical science, and this finds an admirable representativ^in Archimedes. The ca- pacity of the Greeks for art and their philosophical power had been irreparably exhau»bed. The Woman, — ^I have always found it easier, my &ther, to understand the Boman period of the pre- paratory regime. This is owing to the homogeneous and strongly marked character which distinguishes Bome*s ^adual march to universal empire. Bos- suet's UnwerBol History contains some brilliant remarks on this point, and I have long known them. The policy of Eome stands out so clear that Yirgil could embody it in a few matchless lines, which were once explained to me. (J^a. vi. 847 — B65,) Directly they bear only p6,tc end which is the mission of Positivism; \At tlt«J date above mentioned, the whole moveiheijt o^'tM human mind was thoroughly hostile to the e: order, though it was impossible that'the new systenK oould as yet be seen. After Catholkism, no other ^" theological organization was pOBfidMe; just as, after feudalism, no further modificaticn of the military system was possible. The anticipations of Caesar and Trajan were becoming fisicts. The tendency of which they had had a premature presentiment was L 408 • COKCLUSIOK. beginning to be .distinctly recognised, tbe tendency of Western Europe definitively to accept a Positive fjEuth and a peaceful activity. But for the attain- ment of this end it was necessary that science, industry, and even art should undergo a long elaboration. And, in the main, the process must be one of dut^iiJj ant I dispersive in character, so that its social boaiing ^vm not seen. We thus see the origip of the t\\o characteristics of the last transi- tion 4 p^^i>d of human society. Taken as a whole, it irf ^ peiiml oi' growing anarchy; taken in its eraJ poota, 11 is one of increasing organization. y/it ^'>mm* — Now that I see, my father, the direct conoexion of the present with the past, I wimfc kft#Tf the general course of the movement to be whh to fa]h>w the simultaneous growth of anaicliy m^^ reorg^mization. p^, ijdi^t — The negative progress, that of fUiurcLy liBfi a Diore distinct character than the o^i< c, 4iiy laughter. We must distinguish its tw;o •bases. In the one, the work of decompo- Lconscious; in the other, it becomes more i«|^:|flfov^'fl^stematic. The fii*st phase includes the " vsQftr^^nM^ and fifteenth centuries, the other the ;iireeH(eJlowii>j^/: fMse two periods also differ^ if we look to tm4-p<>sitnv9 side of the movement, the process of repr j^ vi^aiion ; but the difference is lees marked. Tl\i/ v. hc4^ of Western Europe was affected by tb ? ^ £p >ja t»fneous decomposition. When systematic, Ifhe tr UTj4ph of the negative movement was confine4 ^ *^ ^ JjTorth. THE GENEBAL HISTOBT OF BEUGIOK. 409 From its coinineiicement the direction of the re- volutionary movement was in the hands of two classes. Closely connected with one another, they trace their origin to the old powers, but they shortly became their rivals. These classes are the metaphysicians and lawyers; they constitute re- spectively the spiritual and temporal element in the negative system. Its most prominent organs, particularly in France, were the universities and the parliaments. The legists are more entitled to respect than the metaphysicians. Both are actuated by one spirit, but in the legists it is modified by the wholesome influence of social considerations. The metaphysicians never were anything, as regards theology^ but inconsistent destructives. The law- yers, and above all, the judges, not to mention their temporary or special services, always had a tendency to follow in the track of Bome, and con- struct a moral system on a basis exclusively human. During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the whole medieval regime was thoroughly.broken up by conflicts between its component parts, its doctrinal system remaining intact. The chief struggle naturally was between the temporal and spiritual powers. Their harmony had always been precarious, a series of oscillations between theocracy and the empire. The popes in the thirteenth century strove in vain to establish an absolute dominion. Throughout Europe, and in France more than elsewhere, the kings organized a suc- cessful resistance. In the next century they Anally 410 CONCLUSION. annihilated the power of the papacy in Western 'Europe. This decisive revolution was completed in the fifteenth century, when, in every case, the national clergy became subordinate to the temporal authority. The Pope became a mere illusion as a spiritual centre; he sunk into an lialian prince. With its independence, the priesthood lost its mo- rality, its public morality first, then its private. To ensure its material existence, it placed its teach- ing at the service of the stronger. Side by side with this change in spiritual mat- ers, in the temporal order the struggle which had begun in the Middle Ages between the local and central powers in the State, was continued on a larger scale. In every case the power which had originally been the weaker got the upper hand, by the instinctive aid of the classes whose origin dates from the abolition of ser&ge. The normal issue is, that royalty should prevail and the aiistocracy succumb. The contrary result is to be looked on as an exception. Yenice was the first instance of it; England the most complete and important. In both forms alike, the combination of political con- centration with the humiliation of the priesthood led to the same result in every state of Western Europe. This result was the formation of a real dictatorship, as the only method of checking the temporal anarchy which was the consequence of the spirii^jiial disorganization. The eminent Louis XI. was the best type of this exceptignal magistracy; he was the only statesman who could clearly discern THE OENEBAL HISTOBT OF BELIOION. 411 and wisely guide the whole moyement of modiem lEurope. - If we turn to the positive side of the progress, its most important feature during this first period is, the growth of industry. The way had been pre- pared by the organization of the labouring classes, both in town and country, in the Middle Ages. In tihe period under consideration three important events gave a decisive impulse to the industrial xnovement. There is nothing fortuitous in their occurring at this particular time. First, by thd invention of gunpowder the transitional institutio|^ of standing armies became perfect, and Western Europe was able to dispense with a military educa- tion which was adverse to the new form of action. Next, printing connected science with industry, by enabling men to gratify the ardent desire for knowledge which was then universal. Lastly, the discovery of America and the passage by the Cape of Gk»od Hope to India gave an opening for a vast extension of commercial relations. Under this impulse the new form of European existence took shape and consistency. ^ The intellectual xnovement produced no great effects as yet, except in poetry. The fourteenth century opens with the unrivalled epic of Dante ; in the fifteenth we have an admirable mystical composition. On the other hand, the accumulation of usefiil materials of all kinds prepares the way for the subsequent scien- tific development. This simultaneous advance of the intellect and 418 CQNOLtTfllON. activity does but place in a dearer light the lamentable neglect of moral improvement. The attention to this had been general in the Middle Ages, and is their chief merit. The ardour of Western Europe for intellectual and practical pro- gress was mainly the consequence of an universal and irregular devdopment of pride and vanity, not unfrequently in conjunction with the basest selfish- ness* The development of the esthetic Acuities, it must be allowed, though not clear from revolu- tionary tendencies, unconsciously kept alive better Q^ntiments. But moral culture became more and more exclusively confined to the affective sex Kot carried away by the stream of scientific and prac- tical advance, it was reserved for women, amid mo- dem anarchy, to hand down to us the more impor- tant results of the Middle Ages, in spite of the aversion felt for those resulta But the holy provi- dence of woman could not arrest the decline of the power of love. The gradual weakening of this, the only sound basis of all human discipline, coin- cided with the rapid increase of strength in the new forces, both spiritual and tempcntd^ which are required for the final state of the Western world. The Woman. — The initial stage of the twolbld movement of modem times is now clear to me, my father. Would you give me a similar view of its systematic period ? The Priest, — Hitherto, my daughter, the doc- trines of the old re^me have been unassailedj they THE GENERAL HISTOBT OF BEUGION. 413 are now the object of a direct attack on purely uegatiye principles. That the anarchy should spread thus far was indispensable as well as inevi- table, for m no other way could the necessity of a real reorganization be evident. The want had not been felt previously, owing to the appearance of life which the old system wore afler all its social bases had been irrevocably destroyed. But to form a sound judgment on the work of this period, we must divide it into two parts. The first begins with the sixteenth century, and ends at the point at which the monarchy in France assumes a retro- grade attitude, an event which coincides with the triumph of the aristocracy in England. The second division brings us to the close of the eighteenth century, to the actual commencement therefore of the revolutionary crisis; which, after the lapse of two generations, is yet convulsing Europe with its deplorable vicissitudes. The necessity of such a division of the period depends principally on the increase of system on the negative side. At the outset it seemed that the negative doctrines might be compatible with the fundamental conditions of the theological regime, but later it became evident that they were inoompatible. We may mark these two successive stages of the negative movement by the terms Protestant and Deist. Infinitely varied as are the sects of Protes- tantism, they all adhere to the Christian doctrine of a revelation. And this is sufficient to distinguish 414 CONCLUSION* tliem from the more complete emancipation which is iinplied in DeiMii. -c^- A.^ the very commencement of the second phase of modem history, the negative doctrine broaches di- rectly its anarchical principle,by its assertion of abso- lute individualism. This follows from its allowing that every one, without exacting any conditions of competence, may decide every question. Once allow this, and all spiritual authority is at an end. The living rise in open insurrection against the dead, as is evidenced by the blind reprobation for the whole medieval system, for which the irrational admiration of antiquity was but a poor compensa- tion. Protestantism lent its influence to widen the fatal breach in the continuity of the race which Catholicism had begun. T?ie Womcm. — Allow me for a moment, my father, to interrtrpfc- you, that I may express the profound dislike I have ever felt for Protestantism. Whilst professing to reform Western monotheism, it stripped it of its best institutions. Thus it sup- pressed purgatory, the worship of the Yjign and the Saints, the system of the confessional, and per- verted the mysterious sacrament which was dear to the hearts of the Western nation& as the sublime condensation of their whole religion. Hence it was that my sex, which had aided so powerfully the . growth of Catholicism, took, as a general rule, no active part in the Protestaik reformation. For it found its tenderness rejected^ and the compensation it received was the permission to interpret writings \ THE OENERAL HISTOBY OF BELIGION. 415 w^hich are iinintelligible^and dangerous. Protes-' tantism would have grievously lowered the institu- tion of marriage as it existed in Western Europe, by re-establishing divorce; but the state of manners and feelings instinctively rejected so retrograde a movement, even when it was accepted officially. The Priest — Your just dislike of Protestantism, my daughter, is a spontaneous explanation of the great disagreement of Western Europe in regard to it. Its purely negative doctrine became a source of division in nations, in cities, and even in families. Its success, partial as it was, shows however that it met some important wants, wants both of the intellect and of society. ^TDhe anarchical" character of its principles did not prevent Protestantism from aiding, at its commencement, the progress of science and the development of industry, for it gave a stimulus to individual effort and it set aside oppres- sive rules. We owe to it two revolutions — ^that of Holland against the tyranny of Spain; that of England, to secure internal reform. The second was premature, and therefore ultimately failed. But it did not fail till it had given indications, under the admirable dictatorship of Cromwell, of the inevitable tendency of the European movement. From this time forward the requirements of order and those of progress, both equally imperative, * became absolutely irreconcileable. The nations of Western Europe ranged themselves on one side or the other, according as they felt more strongly the ^''^^d of order or of progress." There was imminent 416 COKCLU8ION. danger of aniversal oppression had Protestantism nowhere gained the ascendancy. For the retro- grade clergy of Catholicism were busy everywhere, trying to rouse the governments of Europe against a movement, the tendency of which could no longer be doubted. We may be glad, however, that the greater part of the Western world was preserved from Protestantism. Had it been universally ac- cepted, that acceptance would have been deemed a satisfactory issue of the general revolutionary move- ment. The essential conditions of regeneration would in no way have been complied with, for Protestantism proclauns the permanent fusion of the spiritual and temporal power. This view of the two systems leads us to feel equal sympathy with the great men who on either side took a noble part in this immense struggle, the necessary pre- liminary to a true reorganization. Great as were the obstacles arising from the Pro- testant movement, in the second period of modem history we see peiifected the temporal dictatorship, the origin of which ^|s)trao0able to the first. The growth of its pctj4«r coincides witn the formation of the great nationalities, a prohri^onal result of the disruption of the union ejffected^'^by Catholicism in the Middle Ages. / p^t this political anomaly led to no great social results ^C^alue anywhere but in France, and even in Fm,nce such results were necessarily temporary. Since the time of Charlemagne, there has been a^i^creasing tendency to invest France with the general direction of the European move- THE GENEBAL HISTOBY OF BEUGI027. 417 ment. It was necessary then that she should be- come a very compact power, yet large enough to turn the scale by its influence, and to overcome all aggression from the retrograde side. In the other nations of Europe, the dictatorial concentration of power was but the blind and perilous imitation of an exceptional policy required in France. In this second period, the scientific character and philosophical tendency of the positive movement became clearer. Cosmology took a decisive step in advance by establishing the theory of the earth's motion. Then followed shortly the systematization of celestial geometry, and the fotmdation of celestial mechanics. Such theQries showed that the scien- tific spirit was radically at variance with theology and metaphysics. The tendency to construct di- rectly a philosophy which should be thoroughly positive became strongly marked. Bacon and Des- cartes both lent their aid in this direction, and pointed out the preparation required for the con- struction of a positive synthesis. During this decisive movement, the progress of poetry and the other ^e arts was a worthy continuation of that made in the preceding period, which in its turn had been due to the Middle Ages. In the absence of all philosophical guidance and of any social purpose, the poetry of Western Europe produced, in the course of five centuries, more real masterpieces than the whole of antiquity. As for the progress of industry, to extend it became more and more the object of the various governments, though they 418 coKOLunoK. still looked on it as sabordinate to i¥ar. We can eyen then trace the tendency of the masteors to separate themselves from their workmen, and to make common cause with a degenerate aristocrat^. The Wmnam. — ^I wish now, my &iher, to form an idea of the character and object of the last period of modem history. The Priest, — ^Its necessity, my daughter, lay in the general results of the preceding period. Protes- tantism and Catholicism had given up all idea of universal supremacy. Western Europe was di- vided between them, as the Soman empire 'wsa divided between the Goran and the Bibla limits ing ourselves to the leading nations, this diviaioii of the West into Catholic and Protestant, coincides naturally with the division of the dictatorship into aristocratic and monarchical This division had been the result of the preceding period. By this coincidence it became more marked. In the Protestant nations the aristocratic form prevailed; in Catholic countries, the monarchical. Under both forms equally, the dictatorship had become hostile to the movement of emancipation, for it threatened both alike with an entire subver- sion. Monarchy, more especially in France, had been progressive so long as it had a powerful oppo- sition to overcome. When the opposition ceased, and the struggle was over, its retrograde tenden- cies became manifest. As early as the second half of the reign of Louis XIV., it gradually rallied around it all the fragments of the older THE GENEBAL HISTOBT OF BEUOIOK. 419 order. The object of the union was to arrest a social movement which it could not but consider as simply anarchical. And in its aristocratical and Pro- testant form, the dictatorsbip, especially in England, was a still more formidable enemy to the move- ment in Western Europe than in its monarchical and Catholic form. It was more formidable, be- cause it found more aid in the nation. Protestant- ism, so long as it had had to struggle, had been favourable to liberty. As soon as it became esta- blished officially, it exerted itself to put a stop to jforther emancipation. This is the tendency of every system which refuses to adopt the separation of the spiritual and temporal powers. In England, it led to the prevalence of a systematic hypocrisy, more skilfully organized and more pernicious in its re- sults than that with which it taunted ^^uitism, the latest form of expiring Catholicism. Nor was this all. A still more important source of corrup- tion was opened by Protestantism. I mean the development on the largest scale of the system of national selfishness. Yenice had displayed the same quality, but simply in its rudimentary state. The English nation gave it too a cordial welcome, and the result was to isolate England from Western Europe. In such a position of affairs, an explosion was at once indispensable and inevitable. It was negative in character, and is the distinctive event which marks the eighteenth century. A real reorganiza- tion was impossible without it, nay, the very idea E E 2 420 * coKCiiX7Sioir. of 8uoh a reorganization was impossible. The critical doctrines which had their origin in the fundamental principle proclaimed by the two Protestant revolu- tions, had already been co-ordinated by the meta- physicians w&o succeeded Bacon and Descartes. They had gained universal acceptance^ owing to the assiduous exertions of the literary class. This class had hitherto been subaltern ; it now assumed the position of leader. In the direction of the revolutionaiy movement, the liUh'cUeur replaced the doctor of medieval times, just as the advocate stepped into the place of the judge. Two genera- tions witnessed and exhausted the ascendancy of these inconsequent reasoners, who wished to destroy the altar and maintain the throne, or conversely. But pure destructives, such as Yoltaire and Bona* seau, whb are already nearly forgotten, can never be the philosophical representatives of the eighteenth century. Its great school is that of Diderot and Hume, of which Fontenelle was the precursor, Con- dorcet the complement. This school accepted the system of destruction, but accepted it only with this object, that it might be able to gain as clear a conception as possible of the final regeneration. Among statesmen, Frederic the Great of Prussia represents this school. Even at that early period, it was only the narrower order of mind that could think it possible by any conceivable modification of the older order to meet the want of an entire renovation. It was during the revolutionary crisis that on the positive side of the movement, we see cos- THE GENERAL HISTOBT OF RELIGION. 421 mology completed by the foundation of chemistry. With this signal advance end the services of the analytical spirit and of the academical rigime* Their predominance continued. But such blind persistence became at once an obstacle, and an obstacle of growing importance, to the progress of future scientific labours, the presiding E^irit of -w^hich should be synthetic. In the industrial de- fMtrtment we see the banking class rising to the ascendancy, which is naturally its due ; for its ascendancy is the sole condition under which the systematization of our industrial action is possible. At the same time, war became the minister of com^ merce. The colonial disputes were the occasion of the change. The great extension of machinery gave its last cliaracteristic to modem industry. But it also gave occasion to a lamentable increase, on the part of the masters, of neglect of all the social conditions of industrial enterprise. The workmen came more and more to be looked on simply as a source of profit, to the exclusion of all ideas of government or direction. ,^t is easy then to understand the stormy cha- racter of the crisis ; of the vast revolution which was {•the final issue of the whole five centuries which lie between us and the Middle Ages. That stormy character was the necessary result of the &btal in- equality in the rate of progress of the positive and negative movements. The two together make up the whole movement of Western Europe. The negative movement had been very rapid, and the 42S CONCLUSION. positive bad not been able to. satisfy its demand for organization. WHilst the negative was destroying all general conceptions, the positive had only some partial ones to offer in exchange. The leadership in the work of modem regeneration, and that at the time of its greatest diffictdty, had devolved on the clays least qualified for the post, the class of mere writers* The sole object of their aspirations 4 was the pedantocracy dreamed of bj their Greek masters. JThey would concentrate all power in their own persons. ^ The Woman. — Your explanation of the revolu- tionary crisis as a whole makes it clear to me. But I should like, my father, to know in outline the course it has taken, with a view to a right estimate of its actual state, which is the last object of this concluding conversation. The Frie8t,~S^ the first place, my datigbteg, I would draw your attention to the abolition of the French monarchy. This was a necessary step. The monarchy was the centre, the condensed expression of the whole regime in its decay. The funeral of Louis XIY. might have opened men's eyes. But there was at that time no true theory of history to guide men to the right interpretation. What occurred at that funeral was a clear indication of the irre- mediable degeneracy of the government, of the thorough hostility of the people. After a few years of hesitation under the Consti> tuent Assembly, hesitation due to the prevalence of metaphysical theories, a decisive shock overthrew for THE GENERAL HI8T0BY OF RELIGION. i23 ever the retrograde institutioii of monarchy, the last vestige of the caste system. The theocratic consecra- tion given it by the servile clergy of modem times points to it as such. The glorious Convention, the only assembly that enjoys a real popularity in France, vhen it overthrew the monarchy as a preliminary step to social regeneration, had no power io supply any deficiencies in the intellectual movement of Western Europe. It was without the requisites for a really organic policy. It was competent to direct in an heroic manner the defence of the French He- public, but it could not do more than Express in vague form the program of social wants ;. and even tliis wsiS obscured by a metaphysical i^ilosophy, whicji has always been incapable of any construction whatever. The political triumph of the negative doctrine brought to light its thoroughly subversive tenden- cie& This soon led to a retrograde reaction. The reaction began under the ephemei'al ascendancy of a bloodthinMiy deism in the person of Robespierre. It took larger proportions on the official restoration of Catholicism under the military tyranny of Buona- parte. But the primary tendencies of modern civili- zation arei^uch as to reject alike theology and war. Thougb every egoistic instinct was at that timestimu- iated to an unparalleled extent, the military spirit was yet obliged, in its last orgies, to rest on a system of compulsory recruitment The imiversal adoption of conscription is a sign that the abolition of standing armies is approaching. Their substitute will be a 424 COKCLUSION. police force. The expedients to which a retrograde policj has since been driven to avert such a result have all &iled ; it has been found as impossible to revive a warlike spirit as a theological one. Even the plea of progress has been put forward in vain^ and the flEiilure has been the more marked as there are no general convictions leading men to a just reprobation of such conduct. The expedition to Algiers was the most immoral of these expedients ; 'and I venture in this place, in the name of true Positivists, solemnly to proclaim mj wish, that the Arabs maj forcibly expel the French, unless the French consent to a^ act of noble restitution. It is a matter of pride to me to think that, in early years^ I ardently wished success to the heroic defenoe of Spain* The retrograde movement under the first N^kk leon drew its apparent strength solely from war. The extent isf its £ulure was evident on the final resto- ration of peace. In the absence, however, of all organic views, metaphysical empiricism attempted a solution. It found it in an imitation of the English parliamentary system ; «but seeing that that system was only adapted to the transition state if England, it urged its universal adoption* The attempt was successful for a gejaeration,' and only served to give some regularity to a wretched * series of oscillations between anarchy and retro^ gression. In. this process the sole merit of either party lay in its excluding its rivaL It became more and ndore clear that in this long THE OENERAL HISTOBY OF RELIGION. 425 period of fluctuation the received theories were all equally powerless. The spiritual anarchy reached ■its height. All the previous convictions of men, iRrhether of the revolutionary or retrograde school, liad lost their hold. If discipline is partial, it cannot be real and lasting. If it is to be universal, it must rest on one principle-^— the constant supre- macy of the heart over the intellect. But the pnnciple had been losing ground ever since the close of the Middle Ages. It had the support of women ; but this holy support was powei'less, for Western Europe, in its madness, paid less and less respect to women. The result was that even in the scientiflo sphere, the provisional order, which Bacon and Descartes had tried to institute, was set aside, and free course given on empirical grounds to the unconnected study of special sciences. All philosophical control was scorned by those who engaged in such pursuits. Each encyclopeiUc phase ought to be kept within certain limits — ^limits to be £xed by the wants of the next phase above it. Instead 4(fliii% every exertion was made to give each an indefinite extensifMi by lw>]Ating it from the whole. Jit eac!^ *^>^' ^ ^ubB process, the Whole was more completelyflost'sigfat o£ The laovement became retrograde as well as anarchicftL For it threatened to destroy even the great results of former labours, while it gave increased power to academical medio^ crity. In the domain of art we find anarchy and retrogression still more rampant. Art is, by its nature, eminently synthetical ; it rejects analytical 436 COKCLT78ION. einpiziciBm. more abeolutelj than sdenoe does. Tet even in poetry the degradation ytba so great that n ihe learned could appreciate nothing but style. To such an eictent was this carried, that they often placed real master-pieces below compositionB which were both poor and immoraJLA , The Wonum, — ^Your picture is a sad c(ne, my fibther, but I cannot dispute its accuracy. I cannot see in it any point with which I can connect the final solution whicH it has been the aim of this Catechism to set forth. The Priest. — ^We may trace the origin *of this solution, my daughter, to the completion of tfae vast preparation of the race. The objectiTe and introductory period had begun with Thales and Pythagoras; it had been continued during the whole of the medieval period ; it had never ceased to advance during the anarchy of modwn Europe. At the beginning of the French Bevolution, it, had been completed, so far as cosmology was concerned, by the recent creation of chemistry. Bichat and Gall had taken a decisive 6te{U^H|Sii^V<^9 ^^ by founding bidfigy^-iKfiiiiA ihf: <*i||H"^l^ ^^ By the introduction of ^l^k«gi«lH||l^wentific bebis for the egtire renovalio^j^M^i^' t^WiIbsopB»L spirit was laid. \ Tb§.^l»fluit of the whole positive movement was to fiAcilitate the advent of sodologf — an advent which had been heralded by Oondorcet ' in his attempt to bring the future into eystematzc subordination >to the past. The attempt fsdled, hut is not the less immortal It was made at a time . THE GENERAL HISTOBT OF BELIOION. 427 when men's minds were in' a state most entii^y ayerse to all sound historical conceptions. By the universal adoption of an exclusivelj human point of view, it was possible for a subjectiTe synthesis - to construct a philosophy which should be proof against all objections. The next step after tlie synthesis was to found the final religion. To this I was led as soon as the renovation of the intellect had been followed by a regeneration of the moral nature^ Henceforth the medieval period receives its due4ribute of admiration, while antiquity meets with a more thorough appreciation. The cultivation of the feeling? is found to be quitQ compatible with that of the intellect and the activity.^ All noble hearts and &11' great intellects may for the future converge. They accept this termination of the long and difficult initiation through which Humanity has had to pass, under the sway of powers which have been constantly on the decline — theology and war. The movements of modem times are no longer profoundly unequal. The posi- tive movement is at length able to meet all the demands, intellectual and social, to which thp negative movement can give rise^ nor can it meet them solely in reference to the future, but also in the present, though I am not here concerned with the present. The relative finally takes the place . of the absolute ; altruism tends to control egoism ; i systematic progress is substituted for spontaneou»i-^' growth. In a word. Humanity definitively occu- ' - pies the place of God, but she does not forget 428 coHCLUsioir. the services which the idea of God provisionally rendered. Here then, my beloved daughter, you have my last explanations as to the advent of the universal religion, which during so many centuries has been the object of the common aspirations of the West and the East. Its acceptance finds great obstacles^ especially in France, in the prejudices and passions which, under dilBTerent forms, are averse to all sound discipline. But its efficacy will soon be felt by women and proletaries in the South more than in the North, For its best recommendation, how- ever, it must look to the priests of Positivism. They must prove their exclusive competence to bind together into one body all honest and intelli- gent men, by a noble acceptance of the inheritance of the past. * Table A. SYSTEM OF SOCIOLATRY, fler as the Basis • > . "'^ J (The Family, Coun- t^^ M theXd J SOCIAL WOBBHIP, X" try, Humiiity.) Etmbraciag in a series of Eighty-one Annual Festivals the Worship of Humanity under all its aspects. r v«r v««'« mv f Synthetical Festival of the New Year s Day ... ^ •'Q.peat Being. IstMonth. HUMANITY. < frebgious. I Weekly Festivals of J historical. L the Social Union. "1 national. r complete. Vjuiuiicipal. 2ndMonth.MAEEIAGE.] ^^^ V. subjective. 3rd Month. ThePATEB-3 *^"*P^®*® {artificisa. NAL BELATION. ..|i,^^piete {J^^*^. 5 1 8th Month. POLYTHE- g ISM K J 9th Month. MONOTHE- ISM catholic . 4th Month. The FILIAL^ «^^ ^,hAi„L>in«M BELATION ^Sauesubdmswfu. 6th Month. The FBAO «^^^ ^^^i^i«-- TEBNAL BELATION. j *«"•* ntbdwuums, 6th Month. The BELA--\ . f complete. TION OF MA8TEB t P®"^""«^* tincomplete. AND SEEVANT ) temporary Same tubcUvinon. jr» ~ /- . (• nomad ....FestwalofiheAnmalt. ^ r »r*i,iwr^«fh ™psTTrmaM3^ "" l8«dentary..l?fe.«raZtwal qfthe 8m, I (^ systematic... |,j^tary ,..Fe»twdl qflron, conservativc.^MtttJai of Castes. ( e8thetic.j5bmer,.J?«c%2««,P%M2«w. „*»ii-«*«.i scien- ^ Thales, Pythagoras, intellectual .1 ^^^^^ I AHstotley Hn>pocrates, {SaUmw) I phiioso- f Archimedes, ApoUo- l^phic. J nius, Hipparehus. social... Scipio, Cassar, Trajan. 'theocratic Abraham, Moses, Solomon, est. Paul. Charlemagne, Alfred. MUdebrand, &o4frey qfBouiOon, ^St. Bernard, I Mahometan {Lepantoy Mahomet, tDante. Lmetaphysioal ^Descartes. ( mother. (.Frederic II. 10th Month. WOMEN. J wife. Moral Providence. / daughter. ^ sister. iiaMonth.ThePEiE8T-C^'^^::::::;:;;:::::lSS^^L«. HOOD J , n -i; f secondary. Intellectual Providence. Cdefimtive^pj^^jp^-; pestival qf Old Men. mhMonth. ThePATBI-C^,^/- FestivaK^the Znigkts. ^i^^^- v^"- j:'*;'^**' / manufactures. Material Providence. L agriculture. ,», ,r XI. mi- -D-Dr* C&otive.FesivDalqf Inventors: Outemberg, Colum- ^^?b,.3?A°S?A'mS**® ) affective. [bus, Vaueanson, Watt, Montgoyier. LET AKIAl Jfi. "J contemplative. General Providence. C passive^ St. Francis qf Assist. COMPLEMENTABY DAY Festival of all the Dead. The additional Day in LEAP YE AB8... General Festival of Holy Wombk. 4^me vol. PoUUque Positive, p. 160. Paris, Saturday, 7 Archimedes, 66. (1 April, 1864.) IMPULSION. (thx hbabt.) Decrease of energy, in- crease of dienity, from the back or uie nead to the front, from the lower part to the hi^^er, from the sides to the middle. oomfsu (THB IITTELIi Knowled^, ov for the sake* viaion^ with to provisioi. foApov neqii'sepisnedoxj 'raoxojv EAixaaisy oi sjEon. ITU •OXTIS uoy oji aaaao in s^ohi osy 'iioiio (XOV OX '3NIHJ DOGMATICAL DIVISION. II .S (jepJO ) Xjuoji pun i«pog) ' 'xHaosoiiH^ iyHO]f|[ JO JO 'KoisiAia TfoiaoiSiH "^•^ 19 I ■ S 6 8 2 § s M r •Ho: Tu iesc , W edB 1 T :mrs ! Satun • ^ Sundaj ..j ; I- H ISll'i^af.5 ' '^o: THE BORROWER WILL BE CHARGED AN OVERDUE FEE IF THIS BOOK IS NOT RETURNED TO THE LIBRARY ON OR BEFORE THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. NON-RECEIPT OF OVERDUE NOTICES DOES NOT EXEMPT THE BORROWER FROM OVERDUE FEES. STALU I \